Bumps
by ElvishGrrl
Summary: Spoilers for post 3.22. Damon's about had it up to here with the town of Mystic Falls & everyone in it. He just needs to deal with the suddenly all-too-aware Founder's Council and then he's outta here. Oh and let's not forget the new Vampire Hunter in town. Extracting himself isn't going to be as easy as he'd like to think. And she keeps making it more difficult. Coarse language.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N **_So aspects of this story have been playing on my mind for weeks now. I finally decided I needed to write a post 3.22 that appeals to what I want to see. And I really need to see Damon pissed-off, bitter and jaded. This is not a happy little tale filled with butterflies and unicorns, at least not right now. If you love Damon the way so many of us do and feel unusually over-protective toward the poor guy these days, than this may very well be the story for you._

_Special thanks to morvamp, sauriemilia and Layla Reyne for their massive help with this chapter. Don't know what I would have done without you ladies. _

***DISCLAIMER*** _I do **NOT** own Vampire Diaries or the characters associated with Vampire Diaries. No copyright infringement intended._

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**Bumps**

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**Chapter 1**

There aren't enough words to express how badly I want to put the town of Mystic Falls behind the glow of my taillights right now. I mean, seriously. I've had it up to here with the whole fucking lot of 'em.

I won't go over the whole sordid mess - I'm pretty sure you've heard it all before. Suffice it to say, I'm done. I'm through playing the part of everyone's whipping boy, doormat or, when their shitty little plans fail, fucking superhero. As soon as this whole little Vampire Council problem is behind us, I'm outta here. Permanently.

And I mean it this time.

I moved out of the boarding house a few weeks ago. Right around the time that my respect-her-agency-even-if-it-means-letting-her-di e brother brought Elena back from the hospital on what will probably go down forever as the worst night of my entire fucking life.

Packed up as much of my shit as I could and hightailed it straight to my car before they got there. Oh, I didn't leave-leave. Much as I'm sure Stefan _cannot wait_ until I'm gone, I'm still around. Holed up here in the nicest foreclosure in town, of course. Big house: five bedrooms, four bathrooms. It's huge and empty and my footsteps echo off the high walls and vaulted ceilings. It's even got a goddamn swimming pool out back. What the fuck does a vampire need a swimming pool for anyway? Doesn't matter, I won't be here long. It's just a place to sleep and store my stuff for now. A place where _they_ aren't. A place to escape to.

Unfortunately the psychotic uber-vamp version of my now-deceased best friend told the Council about the previously unknown vampires in town. They're now aware of all of us but Elena, which basically means we all have targets on our backs. As long as they don't find out about her, she'll be safe. But I can't leave knowing that risk, so the Council needs to be dealt with. Carol is no longer mayor, Liz has been suspended from her sheriff duties, and of course they know I'm a vampire so all my previously useful connections are shot. The town water supply has now also been spiked with vervain, so compelling is next to impossible.

I'm still working on a plan to fix this. The rest of them are, too. Occasionally they even include me in on their little discussions. Stefan knows where to find me, but he's the only one. I threatened to disembowel him if he disclosed my location to any of them. Especially Elena.

He never fucking listens to me, though. And he always gives in to her.

Which is why she is currently standing outside my front door.

Her familiar scent of honey and jasmine envelops me the moment I open it. If I'd been paying more attention I would've noticed it in advance and taken a rapid exit out the back. But I'm distracted. And now I'll have to pay for my oblivion.

I try to shut the door in her face, but she shoves her hand and foot in and prevents it from closing. Knowing her newfound speed-healing abilities, I ever-so-briefly consider forcing the issue and fracturing a few fingers to prove my point, but instead I just sigh and let her walk into the entranceway. Like I could ever purposely cause her bodily harm, love-sick fool that I am. Scratch that - that I _was_.

"I see my brother still can't say 'no' to you," I drawl as I back up a few steps. Not planning on invading her personal space today or any other day any more. Nope. Not in either of our best interests in any way, shape or form.

I haven't looked this girl in the eye since that moment in the hospital morgue when I watched through the window as the two of them embraced after she woke up in transition. She met my eyes over his shoulder that night and she looked…I don't even know. Honestly, I really don't know what emotion she was feeling. Happy? Sad? Angry? Hungry? Probably all of them simultaneously. It's an incredibly confusing time waking up that way, let me tell you. All I was sure of right then was that I was relieved as shit she was alive, even if she wasn't really, you know? Undead is better than dead-dead. I figured she'd eventually come to accept this. For all I know maybe she already has.

I think that was the last time I felt joy, and it only lasted for a second.

Then I walked away and you know the rest. Any places we've both been in at the same time since, I've kept my distance. It's better this way. It would be better yet if we never had to be in the same space as each other ever again. At least that's what I keep telling myself.

And now I force myself to look at her and I see a dozen different things on that beautiful face that haunts nearly every sleeping moment. She's annoyed-relieved-sad-pleased-sympathetic. I despise the last one. It makes it even easier for me to be pissed off, though.

"Why are you here, E-lay-na?" I ask with careful exasperation. "Wait, let me guess." I tap my finger against my temple. "I bet you've remembered some things, haven't you? Come to yell at me in private since you'd be too embarrassed to do it with other sensitive ears around? Let me save you the effort. I compelled you. You hate me for it. Have a nice rest of your existence."

I quickly move to re-open the door before she can start her tirade. I have every intention of pushing her through it before becoming intimately acquainted with the bottom of the largest bottle of booze in the living room.

She grabs my wrist to stop my hand on the doorknob. Her touch still burns my skin like flaming ice; that much hasn't changed. "I'm not here to yell at you, Damon. And I don't hate you."

My eyebrow flies toward the ceiling and I wrench my arm out of her grip. "No? Well, I'm really not interested in having a pity-party, either. None of it matters now anyway. It changes nothing. Just go back to forgetting again. I know you can do that. Pretending's what you do best."

Her eyes flare wide and she reels back as if I've slapped her. Good. Yet I hate that a part of me feels horrible about the hurt expression I see on her face. "I don't want to forget," she whispers.

My spine goes rigid again. "And I don't really give a fuck." I haul the door open and shove her onto the porch. Now she only looks sad, nothing left but sadness and it's there because of me. It's my fault this time.

No, fuck no! It's really, really not and I need to stop being so gutless with this girl. It _is_ her fault. This is all on her. I refuse to feel sorry for her mopey face over all the shit she's put me through. I refuse to accept the sympathy she offers for my poor, sad, little broken heart. Fuck that.

What's done is done. There is no going backward. There is no going forward either, anymore. Not for us.

She opens her mouth to say something else but I don't wait for it. I am at my wits end and I can't hear another fucking word. "Don't come back." I snarl. I slam the door hard enough to rattle the frame and it possibly cracks in a few places but I really don't care. I fly into the living room, fists clenched tightly. I can feel the blood welling up in my palms and I don't give a shit about that either.

I pick up the nearest bottle and drain it in three long draughts, then fling the empty so violently against the wall that it disintegrates into miniscule fragments that rain down on the carpet like a million snowflakes. They glint in the shaft of late afternoon sunlight from the front window. Pretty and deadly. Just like she is.

* * *

There's a new guy in town who's been making my spidey-senses tingle mightily. I've been stalking some of the less bright-and-shiny Council members and I notice he's already ingrained himself into their little club. Something about the guy seems vaguely familiar to me, but I can't quite place where or why. There's a foggy memory there that dances just out of reach. And he's giving me a Hunter vibe. Nothing about _that_ can be good.

I'm following him through the cemetery at a discreet distance when I unexpectedly detect Elena's voice. She's talking quietly with the quarterback, Donovan, whom I incidentally _also_ blame for her death. Not that it makes any sense to blame anyone any more - it's not like anything's fixable at this point. But it's just so easy to direct my impotent rage at all of them. For once I'm nearly the only person _not_ responsible for _that_ colossal fuck-up. I'm sure they've all still found reason to blame me, though. It's what they do best.

I hear my name and I suddenly forget all about the Hunter or why I'm in this copse of trees at midnight to begin with. I stand totally still and focus on the two of them. They're sitting on a park bench about fifty or sixty yards away, but now there's no-one around but the three of us and various woodland creatures. I can hear their conversation perfectly.

"He hates me now." Her voice is a monotone, resigned. My fickle heart clenches at the misconception. There's still a part of me in there somewhere that wants to correct her. But another, bigger part of me is agreeing, shouting y_ou're right, I do. _ Because I want to _so_ badly.

"I seriously doubt that," Donovan assures her. "He's just hurt and licking his wounds. I don't blame him. Give the guy some time, Elena. He'll come around." Like fuck I will. Also, _licking my wounds_? I'm a vampire, not a goddamn pussycat, for fuck's sake.

"You didn't see the look on his face the other day, Matt. He always has to lash out and destroy things. Like the night of the ball, when he shoved Kol off the balcony just because I hurt his feelings."

I freeze. _Shut up, Donovan. Shut the fuck up right now. Don't say another goddamn word._

"Yeah, about that. Kol was the one who broke my hand that night. He might've killed me if Damon hadn't pushed him off the balcony to save my ass. Thought you already knew that?"

I swear to God I'm going to toss Matt Donovan off Wickery Bridge and drown him in the river myself.

She gasps. I can just picture the look on her face. She'll think she understands me more now or some other such bullshit. I can see the texts that will undoubtedly come in already.

_Why didn't you tell me what really happened that night, Damon?_

_Why don't you ever let people see the good in you, Damon?_

And then she'll invite me over for fucking tea or something to have a nice long girly chat and expect us to be BFFs again. Huh uh. No, thank you.

One thing she will not do, however, is apologize for what she said to me that night. She never has and I doubt she ever will. Why should she, really? It was entirely true. It's still true. All my love has ever been for her is a problem.

Problem now solved though. She can just continue believing I hate her. She can believe it for the rest of her potentially long, long life for all I care at this point.

Her voice is even softer now. "I didn't know. He saved you from Kol? Of course he did. Of course he did…" She trails off and I don't wait around to hear what they say next. I really don't need to hear another word.

I've lost the Hunter but I've also lost a little bit more. Why is she finding out this stuff now? It's way too late to make one single goddamn iota of difference. But it does, somehow. To her. I know it does and I hate it. I didn't think I could feel any more loss than I've already felt over the past few weeks, and yet here it is again, tearing away at me.

I'm so fucking sick of regrets. If I'd let them, they'd consume me whole.

I need a drink or twelve and I need them right now.

* * *

I was right, as I always am. She did text me about it. Called a few times, too. I know she knew I wouldn't respond and hell, I didn't want to disappoint her on that count. I was right about something else, too. Not one of the messages contained an apology. Because why would she apologize? Not for being pissy about my declaration of love the night of the ball, not for telling me that I 'need to get over it' the morning after, not for treating me like scum to scrape off her shoe every time she saw me after that, not for giving less than two shits about Rebekah torturing me, not for a week later taking advantage of my feelings for her and molesting me in Denver just to 'test the waters' and then turning it all back off thirty seconds later and certainly not, definitely not, for breaking my heart yet again and leaving me to die alone in that grimy self-storage unit. Nope, what could she possibly have to apologize for?

Am I bitter? Fuck yeah, I'm bitter. Mostly at myself for ever falling for her in the first place. You'd think I would have learned my lesson the first time around. I fucking _knew_ better this time. But it seems I am a colossal, world-class sucker when it comes to Petrova doppelgangers. Obviously so is my brother, but at least his love is requited. As of right now, he has both of them willing to forgive any and all transgressions and take him in their arms. That's Saint Stefan for you. He could be drenched in the blood of a thousand newborns and neither of them would even flinch before loudly declaring their love for him to all and sunder.

I shudder violently and slam down the rest of my drink. I want so badly to hate them, I really do.

And a part of me does, a little bit.

But a bigger part of me, which I will never admit to out loud, just wants them both to be happy. And they are, with each other, so really it's all good. I'll be out of their hair soon enough and they can live happily ever after without me getting in their way.

I eventually doze off on the couch in my drunken stupor. Nightmarish images of Alaric dying in my arms terrorize me while I sleep. Not for the first time and surely not for the last. It's usually either that or Elena drowning while I'm paralyzed, watching and helpless to save her. Makes me dread sleeping. Sometimes, with the help of ridiculous amounts of alcohol, I can rest dreamless, but not for very long. And not very often.

I awaken abruptly to the creaking hinges of the door swinging open.

In the blink of an eye I'm in the front hallway and have her pressed by the throat against the back of the door. Big brown eyes regard me in surprise but the cold self-assurance below the surface of them and the smirk that curves those full lips tells me exactly who this is under my fingers.

"Katherine. What the fuck are _you_ doing here?"

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**A/N2** _ Please leave me a review below and let me know. I'd really appreciate your thoughts! Your reviews totally make my day. Thank you so much for reading!_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N** Wow! I'm blown away by the response to chapter 1! Seems you guys really like this so far. I hope the 2nd chapter lives up to your expectations! Thank you so, so much for all the reviews and Favourite Story adds. I appreciate every one. The best thank you that you can give any author if you like what they write is to leave a review. Too many amazing writers have quit writing fanfic recently and it makes me so sad. Please show the good ones your love by reviewing. It only takes a minute. Thank you.

Special extra big thanks to fellow fic writer Layla Reyne for betaing this chapter for me. Please go read & review her stories, she's awesome!

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**Chapter 2**

Katherine pulls out of my grasp in an instant and takes a moment to smooth down her low-cut red top before answering. Which of course draws my eyes to her cleavage, just as she intended.

"A little bird told me that Klaus is finally dead, so I thought I'd come check up on my boys." She gives me what she assumes is a seductive look but I am so not in the mood for her games right now.

"I also heard my sweet, innocent, little doppelganger got vamped." Disdain coats every word. One flawlessly tweezed brow arches in my direction. "Stefan must be _thrilled_."

Aha. Now I get it, a least a little bit.

I smirk at her. "Yep, you two twinsies can now bond over makeup, hair, being evil and how best to emotionally destroy the men that have the misfortune to fall for you." I roll my eyes hard. "I can see it now – you'll dress up as her to fool Stefan, she'll dress up as you to…well…fool Stefan again, I assume."

I sigh and look her in the eyes. "Really, Katherine - what do you want? I'm busy."

"Busy sleeping off a bender?" she snorts. "I need somewhere to stay while I'm in town. This place will do nicely." She picks up a bag I hadn't noticed off the floor and starts for the stairs.

I zoom in front of her. "Absolutely not. No fucking way. Not gonna happen." I brace both hands on her shoulders to stop her from going upstairs. I note that touching her affects me not in the slightest.

Of course she's 330 years older than I am, so the next thing I know I'm flat on my back looking up into her carefully composed almost-pissed-off-so-don't-push-me face.

"Not up for negotiation, Damon. But I won't be in your hair for long." She drags her perfectly manicured fingernails along my scalp and wrenches hard on said hair. I barely contain the wince and only just manage to maintain my impassive features under her scrutiny. "That is, unless you want me to be?"

That sultry look is back in place. She's still as bi-polar as ever. I can't believe that hot and cold act actually used to turn me on. Who was that guy? Doesn't seem like it was ever me.

"Get the fuck off me," I breathe with low menace. The promise of imminent pain in the tone of my voice would terrify anyone but Katherine. She just laughs in my face.

A second later both she and her suitcase have vanished up the stairs and I'm staring at the scrollwork on the ceiling wondering what other torments I'll have to endure before I can get the hell out of this godforsaken town.

Rebekah should be showing up with her bear-traps and pointy, pointy knives shortly.

Sweat drenches my skin at the memory and I shudder involuntarily. There goes any hope for further sleep tonight.

* * *

No rest for the wicked, right? Instead I decide to jump in the Camaro for a long drive to do some discreet hunting on the outskirts of Richmond. After I get my fill, I hang around for several hours in a grimy roadhouse that serves alcohol twenty-four hours a day if you have cash or, in my case, compulsion. Going back is not particularly attractive to me right now, and I'd prefer to delay that aggravation for a while longer.

Eventually the lunch crowd starts drifting in and I figure it's a good time to make myself scarce. I still feel as sober as when I walked in here hours ago. Seems little can relieve that ever-present ache anymore. Blood and booze may dull it for a bit, but only just.

I'm around halfway back to Mystic Falls when my phone rings. It's Stefan this time, so I deign to answer.

His voice is anxious. "Where are you?"

Worry momentarily spikes through me at his tone. But then again, disaster strikes every other day lately. How bad can it really be this time? Nothing can top The Night That Destroyed Everything, so I respond calmly. "On Route 15 somewhere between Richmond and you. Why? Does the world need saving again?"

"Damon, something just went down. Rebekah's dead. Come straight to the boarding house."

A broad smile stretches across my face at that news. Since Klaus turned out to be a liar-liar-pants-on-fire, we're back to not being sure who started our bloodline. I was already pretty confident it wasn't Rebekah and this just reaffirms my suspicion that papa bear is Elijah. I mentally cross 'Kill Blondie-Bex' off my to-do list. No one deserved to die more than that Original Bitch, I just hadn't yet figured out a way to do it without getting myself killed in the process. I start to comment to Stefan that I hope it's one big motherfucking celebration he's throwing, but he's already gone.

Can't deny this is a fabulous development but why do I need to suffer the torture of hearing the details in person with the rest of them? Couldn't he have just told me over the phone? There must be more to it. I sigh.

Then it hits me hard and all of the air rushes out of my lungs. The only way now to kill an Original is with the silver-coated white oak stake that Ric had clutched in his fist when he died. The very same stake that's supposed to be carefully hidden in my house. Oh, fucking hell no! I slam both hands down on the steering wheel. This is _so_ not good. Not good at all.

I'll go home first to confirm it's missing. Now I know exactly what to expect at this meeting of the Mystic Falls Misfits - another round of the Blame Damon game. And this time they'll be completely justified. Exactly what any of us needs right now - another reason to fear we're all gonna die.

I know one thing for sure though. If I have to deal with this shitstorm this afternoon, Katherine is damn well coming with me.

* * *

We pull up the curved driveway of the boarding house an hour and a half later. Needless to say, I didn't exactly break the sound barrier rushing to get here. This is _so_ not gonna be my definition of 'fun'. Various vehicles are parked around the edges. Looks like the gang's all here. Waiting for me to vent their anger on, no doubt.

The stake, of course, wasn't in the crevice where I oh-so-carefully hid it. I have no fucking _clue_ how anyone could have found it. No one knew its location but me. And I don't have a murderous alter ego taking over my consciousness every now and then like Ric did. No, my murderous alter ego doesn't wait and bide his time. He sits right there in the back of my brain daily, fully alert and sliding me lurid suggestions detailing nasty things he'd love me to do to every pretty young thing that walks by. Usually these days I ignore him, but occasionally I still enjoy letting him out to play.

Yet another reason why I'm not the man Elena wants to believe I am. She wants a 'nice guy' - someone to coddle and play house with her. I am not a nice guy. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I can never be the kind of guy she needs.

"So, ready for all the judgy eyes?" Katherine asks me, knowing full well I'd rather be dipped head first in a vat of vervain than walk in there right now. She's adept at reading a situation and she's got this one pegged.

"Not even slightly," I reply succinctly.

Grasping the doorknob, I suck in a deep breath and square my shoulders before I walk inside. As I step into the archway to the drawing room, Katherine appears beside me and places her hand on the small of my back in a subtly possessive way. Everyone's eyes are drawn to the two of us. I flinch slightly at her touch but I don't step away from her. Let them think what they want.

Stefan steps forward and considers both of us for a moment. "When did you get into town?" he asks Katherine.

"Last night," she replies, offering nothing more.

He turns to me. "Is she staying with you?" Do I detect a tiny note of jealousy in his voice? Well, well. Wonder if his vampire girlfriend picked up on that, too? Brother dear, you may have some 'splainin' to do later. Don't think she's the sort of girl that's willing to share her toys.

I plaster a sly grin on my face and slip an arm around Katherine's waist, pulling her against me as I nod. Suddenly I do see a benefit to having her around again.

Stefan narrows his eyes at me for a split second. Then he composes his features and begins to tell us what happened.

Apparently he, Elena, Little Witch Judgy and Vampire Barbie were having it out with Becky behind the Grill after lunch. The two blondes were getting all hot 'n heated about something or other – I pretty much tune Caroline out when she relays that bit. A muscular, bald, black guy appeared out of nowhere and next thing they knew, Miss Original gasped, fell forward onto Care and burst into flames. The dude pulled the stake out of her back, glared pointedly at the rest of them and vanished before anyone had time to react. Cause, you know, vampires. Obviously _way_ too slow to catch him.

"I thought you hid the last white oak stake somewhere safe?" my brother accuses me. "How the hell did it end up in his hands? We all could have died, Damon!"

I roll my eyes. There it is. As predicted, this is all _my_ fault.

"Yeah," I snap. "I kinda figured that bit out already, Hawking. I don't know what to tell you." I shrug casually. "I did have it well hidden. No one knew where it was but me, I swear."

I notice Barbie's little lap-dog watching me closely. They'd thought he died when Klaus did. And no-one has a good explanation for why he didn't. The best guess seems to be his hybrid status. Not sure if I buy that or not but honestly, it's the least of my concerns. Since realizing her lover-boy was alive, he hasn't strayed far from Sweet Caroline's side at any given time. He's currently paying more attention to our conversation than I've ever noticed him do in the past. But then again, all our lives are in danger now more than ever.

"That black guy, the one who has the stake now?" I train my stare on Stefan. "He's a Hunter. I've been trailing him off and on for a while. He's ingratiated himself with the Council already, too." My fingers still rest loosely against Katherine's ribcage. I've refused to glance her way so far, but I'm aware without a shadow of a doubt that Elena's glaring daggers at the two of us. Good. Let her jump to conclusions. What can it hurt?

"How did you know he's a Hunter?" Junior Gilbert pipes up. "Before today, that is."

"Yes," my brother asks, taking a step closer to me. "How _did_ you know that? And why didn't you warn me?"

A thin smirk curls my lips and again I focus solely on him. "Call it intuition. And I didn't tell you because I had no proof. Which I've been trying to get. And take him out. Guess I'm a little too late."

"Guess so," Caroline snips. For the first time I realize Bonnie isn't in the room. Which is also odd. Why wouldn't she be here? Working on a spell to answer one of our thousands of questions, no doubt. Again, I don't really give a shit enough to think twice about it.

Elena has been surprisingly quiet during all this. Maybe that's a good thing. I'm fully aware she'll tell me off the next chance she gets to speak to me alone, but I intend to do everything in my power to not let that happen. Ever again, if I can help it.

"Has anyone contacted Elijah yet?" I ask, and the room falls silent. Lockwood is looking at me oddly again. What the fuck is his problem? If he tries to bite me a second time Barbie's gonna be mightily pissed when I rip the heart from her puppy.

"I guess that's a no," I sigh. "Fine, I'll do it." I pull away from Katherine and turn to walk back into the entryway. It's as good reason as any to get out of here and I'll take whatever excuse I can get, no matter how feeble.

Miss Gilbert picks this moment to finally speak up. "No. No, Damon. I'll do it. I'll break the news to him."

I stop in my tracks and half turn back toward the room but I don't meet her eyes. "Fine. You do that. I'm gonna go back to doing something useful and hunt the Hunter."

Without another word I leave them behind, Katherine hot on my heels.

* * *

I search all over town for the guy, but can't seem to find him. I do, however, overhear a couple of female council members gossiping about him at the Grill and discover his name is Connor. Don't know if that's his first or last name, but it's a start. They think he's sexy and 'mysterious'. You'd think, living in Mystic Falls, mysterious should equal suspicious, but no. No wonder this town is a supernatural danger magnet.

When I get back to the house it's dark and mercifully empty. Maybe Katherine's off annoying Stefan and Elena tonight. Hope she doesn't come back 'til morning. I could really use a stretch of uninterrupted quiet.

I walk silently through the dark house, not bothering with lights. My footsteps creak on the stairs. I can hear the air conditioning's low hum and the muted clunks as the fridge drops ice cubes into the dispenser.

Just before I flick the light on in the master bedroom, I catch the scent of honeyed jasmine and I groan. I hit the switch and find Elena sitting in the chair in the corner waiting for me, laying in wait for me like a predator would its prey. And I freeze like said prey, caught in the mesmerizing eyes of the fox and too paralyzed with fear to run.

I shake it off a second later and drag my eyes from hers. Bracing my forearm on the doorframe, I rest my forehead against it and sigh. "Can't you take a fucking hint? What do I need to do to get my point across to you? Tattoo it on your goddamn forehead?" I don't look up as I sweep my other arm behind me in a get out of here gesture.

"You won't even look at me any more. Why won't you look at me, Damon?" Damn it. Her tone conveys she has no intention of leaving. Not until she says what's on her mind. I mentally calculate how many seconds it would take me to get to my car and how many hours after that it would take me to drive to fucking Argentina, since that's about the furthest away from her I can think of.

Yet I know I'm not going anywhere. Not yet, anyway. Not with that motherfucking stake in the hands of someone who could quite literally kill us all with a single stab. Why didn't I keep it on my person instead of hiding it away? For all the times I've bitched about stupid things the rest of them have done, this one takes the cake. I win. Dunce cap, please. If we all wind up dead it will be entirely my fault.

What was she saying? Something about me not looking at her? What does that have to do with anything?

I try a different tactic to get her out of here. "Katherine's over at the boarding house with your honey-bunches-of-oats, you know. You okay with that? He might need rescuing right about now." Still won't lift my head. Don't want to look into those eyes again. I can't take her emotions – any of 'em – anymore. Not one.

"Stefan's a big boy. He can take care of himself. Since you won't answer when I call, I have to catch you by surprise if I want to talk to you." She pauses, obviously waiting for me to say something. I remain silent.

"And don't run away from me. I can keep up with you now." Oh, I fucking hate how well she can read me. "Please, Damon, just sit down. Sit down and look at me and let's talk like adults. You've been avoiding me like such a child lately."

My fingers clench into tight fists and my teeth grit together hard, but I keep my forehead pressed into my arm. "You are _not_ an adult, Elena. Why should I treat you like one? Just what do I need to do to get you to leave me alone? Seriously. Haven't you done enough? Do you have to keep adding insult to injury, even now?"

She doesn't answer and I lift my head an inch. Just enough to see her Converse-clad feet on the white carpet. And the dirty tracks marks they've left. Yeah, _I'm_ the child.

Look, I know I've done thousands of horrendous things in my long life, but if this is my penance - having to deal with this shit now - I'd almost prefer to be staked and just get it over with. Elena Gilbert is my fucking albatross. She will drag me below the waves and drown me and expect me to be grateful for it.

"Stefan told me that you guys flipped a coin." _Goddamn_ it. Fuck, not _this_, too. Does everyone in this town hate me? Oh, wait. She keeps going. "That he lost the toss and was supposed to be the one to kill Abby. That you turned her as the last, best option and you did it so that I'd be angry with you instead of him. You still think he deserves me more than you do, don't you?" At that last her voice has gotten very, very soft.

I mentally beg with everything I've got for a hole to open up in this second-storey floor and swallow me whole. I'd prefer being dropped into the pits of hell over this conversation.

The shattering of glass interrupts my internal supplication and I look up. Just in time to see a bullet hit me in the shoulder. Bright red pain blooms out from the entry point. Holy fucking hell that hurts! My vision blurs and I hear the low underwater sound of Elena's voice as she screams my name. What the hell's going on? Why am I so drowsy? Her hand lands on my arm and her worried brown eyes swim just beyond my tunneling field of vision.

Then there's nothing. Nothing but silent night, holy night.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N** _Holy crap - you guys have blown me away with your love for this story so far! I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. The feel of it is quite different to the previous two. Thank you so, so much for all your reviews, Favourite Story adds, Favourite Author adds and Author Alerts. Each one makes me smile - especially the reviews as they let me know why you like it! Every single review is important to every author that publishes on here. Even if all you do is thank them for creating these stories for you. Feedback matters! :)  
_

_This chapter kicked my ass a bit, so extra special thanks to four talented fellow fic writers who preread, beta-ed and gave me loads of advice - Layla Reyne, JWAB, CreepingMuse and morvamp. Don't know what I'd do without you.  
_

* * *

**Chapter 3**

I'm floating, drifting. Surrounded by a haze of dusty colours. So beautiful. So desperate. Silent as the womb. Am I back in utero? Am I dead? There's no way this could be Heaven. Someone's made a massive mistake if it is…

A voice abruptly drags me out of it. Suddenly I'm falling. I land hard. It doesn't hurt. Wait, yes, it does. Everything hurts. Fucking fuck - I'm a vessel of agony. But I'm paralyzed. Unable to move, to scream.

The voice is deep, rumbly. Knowing. It tells me I'm a piece of shit who deserves to die. Can't argue with that logic.

Blinding pain shatters my nerves and fractures my senses but I can't react. Can't even groan. Kill me already – what are you waiting for?

But the voice is gone. The ground under my back is cold. Can't open my eyes. Searing pain. Are those tears on my cheeks? No! Maybe.

So much time passes I swear I'm Rip goddamn Van Winkle. Where's my long white beard? Where's my Grim Reaper? Am I already dead? Why am I not dead yet? I have no perception of time – it might have only been a minute or two.

After awhile the pain subsides. The colours return, for a time. Pretty, pretty colours. Like flowers. I want to pick them. Present them to Elena gaily tied with a big pink bow. Who the fuck am I? I'm not sure I know any more.

* * *

Consciousness beckons with a whimper. Was that me? Where am I? My fingertips scrabble in the dirt. I can move. Sort of.

With a Herculean effort I manage to partially wrest one eye open. My field of vision is filled with pirouetting dust motes. As I study their intoxicating patterns my mind goes blank. My eyes are so heavy. So heavy. No hope of fighting it. They slip closed again.

Another groan.

Elena?

Forcing my thousand-pound eyelids up a fraction, I use every ounce of energy I can muster to roll onto my side. Every single solitary part of my body screams at the effort involved but at last I can see her.

Oh God. Elena. Limp on the ground. Her face is turned away. She moans again. I want to crawl to her, ensure she's okay, but those few feet between us stretch wider than the Sahara. I will die of thirst before I can touch her skin. Buzzards will peck out my eyeballs and suck the marrow from my bones.

I try to stretch out an arm. I swear each muscle battles against me but somehow I manage to make my hand reach out. Palm flat on the dirt, I press down and attempt to drag my body closer to her. When did I get so fucking heavy?

I think I move an inch. Maybe two.

It takes so long to get to her that I lose all track of time again. It's dark now. I think I passed out around the halfway point for a while.

My mind grows slightly clearer. Drugged. Gotta be drugged. What did they do to me? What did they do to us? There is no part of my body that is not screaming. My toenails are on fire. My thoughts ache.

Straining my arm out again, I finally catch the tip of one finger on her shirt. Almost there, almost there. I can do this. Stay awake, Salvatore. Just stay awake this time.

Using every last bit of strength, I push with my other hand and manage to propel my body up against hers. At last. I fling my arm over her shoulder and fall slack. Must rest for a minute. No choice.

Another whimper. Is that her? I think that one might have been me. I tug her arm slightly and her body shifts over against me. She's a rag doll in my embrace.

I exhale a relieved sigh. She needs blood, but she's alive.

"Elena?" I say but only a rasp comes out. My tongue feels like sandpaper scratching the roof of my mouth. I try to lick my lips but it barely moistens them. I try to swallow but my throat is an inferno. I need blood, too.

She needs it more.

"Elena?" I try again. This time her name is a croak, but it's audible. Barely. A low gasp from her. Her head lifts an inch, falls back down. More than anything I want to cradle her in my arms. I want to stroke her face. I want to make everything better.

Are we dying?

Another massive wave of exhaustion takes me over. It wants to drag me back under. Not again, not now. I fight it – I really do. I need to give her my blood. I need to fix this. No one cares, least of all the darkness. It smothers me.

* * *

My nostrils flare. Something's cooking. Burning. What is that nasty smell?

Jesus! My eyes fly open. Vampire fricassee! I find I can move enough to drag Elena and myself back into the shadows below the naked window.

I'm not wearing my ring - where is my goddamn daylight ring? Where is hers? Whoever did this to us was smart enough to take our rings. Fucking hell. Who took us?

She's still out. Her heartbeat is so, so slow. Her skin is dry. She has to have blood. I try to wrap my body around hers. Maybe I can shelter her when that deadly rectangle of sunlight edges close again.

I'm so weak. Burns aren't healing.

I must be delirious. I can smell blood, human blood. Grimacing with the exertion, I roll over. Even that small movement exhausts me. Moving nothing but my eyeballs, I scan the space we're trapped in. It's a cell of some kind. No sounds drift in from beyond the bars. I detect no humans anywhere nearby.

My gaze freezes at a spot on the floor just outside the bars. Am I hallucinating, too? I swear there's a blood bag on the ground, within reach. Well, on the other side of that wide swath of sunshine, but if I ignore the whole catching on fire issue I just might be able to snag it.

I have no choice in the matter - she needs it too badly. The real question is, can I get to the bag and back before being consumed by flames? I seriously take stock of that big patch of death. Shit. I doubt it. I'm still far too weak to do it fast enough. Can't see how my turning into one huge fireball will help Elena in any way right now.

But it's _right there_. Taunting me with its delicious aroma, its healing life-force. My mouth is moist now, seems a drop or two of saliva have found their way back after all.

So close. A dangling carrot, just out of reach. I deserve to suffer, I know I do, but the poor baby vamp unconscious behind me does not.

Someone's coming. I shuffle back and press against her, shielding her body as best I can with my own. I close my eyes. One arm lies flopped out in front of me and I know my fingertips are dangerously near the edge of that nasty strip of light.

A minute later I hear the deep voice from one of my previous hazy awakenings.

"So you've finally woken up?"

I don't move.

"Seeing as you're huddled in the shadows, I guess you've noticed your rings are gone. I've got your phones, too, in case you were wondering."

I hadn't been. It was a logical assumption. I relent and open my eyes a sliver. It's the Hunter, of course. I figured it would be. What's his name again? I knew it once. He's holding a rifle in one hand, down along his side.

His eyes never leave my face as he squats to pick the blood bag up off the floor.

"Want this?" He tosses it into the air lightly and catches it. It makes a dull slapping sound against his palm. My gums ache as my canines beg to be set free.

I don't answer. Instinctively, my other hand slips backward over Elena's waist and holds her to me protectively. She shifts a little. Has she regained consciousness?

"I know you want it. You want me, too. You want a lot of things." He stares at me so intently it feels like he can see my every last desire written across my soul. "You are consumed by your wants. What you're going to get, however, is death. Soon. Very soon. But not today."

Abruptly he tosses the bag through the bars and it lands in the middle of that rectangle of sunlight, not three feet from my outstretched hand.

Connor. His name is Connor. Need to remember that. Don't know why it matters but it does.

My smart-ass mouth begs to run off at him. To taunt him and cajole him until he loses his cool. It wants to wipe that calm self-righteous expression right off his face and see it replaced with the fury I know lurks below.

I eye the gun again and I don't say a word. It's probably loaded with wooden bullets. Elena needs the blood and I need to stay alive to give it to her. I realize with sudden surety that I'm so not ready to die yet. You'd think I would be, after everything, but my survival instincts have flared up in my insuppressible need to ensure her protection.

Shifting the arm in front of me closer to my side, I press my lips and eyes tightly shut and try to will him to go away.

* * *

Small favours.

When I open them again, he's gone. I listen for sounds of him moving about and detect none. It's still really sunny – why the hell does it have to be so fucking sunny? Why can't I get a little gloom when I actually need it?

I look at the blood bag in the middle of that glowing rectangle. This is gonna hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. Pulling off my t-shirt, I drape it over my arm and hand.

The line of bright pain is closer to me now. I ram my hand forward and the cotton protects me from the worst of it. Snagging the blood bag with one finger, I attempt to pull it back fast. Too fast. The shirt catches and falls off and my skin begins to steam and sizzle. Fucking fuckity fuck! I haul both the bag and my arm back against me, nursing my hand against my chest. Goddamn it, that stings.

Bracing the rubber tube of the blood bag in my teeth, I immediately rip off the cap. I suck back one small mouthful, just enough to hopefully give me a smidge of energy and kick-start my healing. I sigh in sheer pleasure. Holy hell, that's the stuff - ambrosia to every single sense. It takes every last bit of willpower I have to not drain the entire thing. I drag the tube from my mouth and push it between Elena's cracked lips, squeezing the bag to force some blood down her throat.

She makes a slight gagging sound at first, then begins to swallow greedily. A relieved smile splits my face. The plastic sack is empty in no time flat. I don't blame her.

Mentally bracing myself, I dash my hand out to snag the discarded t-shirt as fast as I can. It could come in handy later to have that layer of protection. And what's a little more pain at this point? Every last bit of me hurts anyway. Inside and out.

I lean back against the wall and contemplate our situation. Without more blood I'm gonna be in even worse shape before long and then I won't be able to figure out a way to get us out of here. It's also worth noting that we're going to have to shift positions soon. Our band of shade against the back wall is growing ever thinner.

"Damon?" Her hand's on my arm. The dangerous soft sweetness of my name on her lips interrupts my thoughts. "Where are we?"

Oh fuck. She's better but she's talking and we're trapped in a cell and I'm too weak to attempt to escape. Which mean I'm stuck in a small space, made even smaller by the wide swath of glaring no-mans-land creeping across the middle, with the one person in the entire world who's capable of inflicting the greatest degree of torture on me.

Whether she realizes it or not yet, she's got me held prisoner here just as surely as the Hunter does. And as soon as she does click in to that fact, she's gong to start to _talk_. And I have absolutely no way of shutting her up or shutting her out.

Focusing my gaze on a cobweb-strewn corner, I reply, "I have no idea." Not a hint of snark in my voice, just tired resignation. Then, because I can't not, I add, "You okay?"

She pauses, presumably checks herself over, although I'm not watching to see, then hesitantly answers, "I think so. Are you?"

No. No, I'm really not. I'm fucking light years from 'okay' right now. "Yeah," I reply, because what else am I gonna say? _No, I need blood or I'm gonna pass out and maybe die but I gave it all to you 'cause your well-being means a fuck of a lot more to me than my own?_

I don't think so.

As I watch that line of sunlight shift ever closer, I realize we're going to have to move, like, imminently. I'll go to the left and she can go to the right. Except she won't if she knows that's my plan. She'll insist on being beside me. I really need her on the other side of the cell with that glaring patch of death dividing us. It's almost touching my boots now.

"They took our daylight rings," I tell her, in case she hasn't noticed.

She sucks in her breath as she realizes I'm right. "Oh God. We need to move, Damon." I hear the sound of her shuffling to the right. Not that she had a choice. She couldn't go left without going over me.

At first I don't move and I know she's watching me, waiting for me to follow her into the shadows. The light begins to creep over my boot. No pain; the leather protects me for now. My jeans will, too. So I sit for a while. My skin grows hot below the denim, but not so hot I can't take it.

"Damon? You need to move." What, no 'please'?

The light is now edging over my knees, as gentle and searing as a lover's caress. I keep still. Try to conserve my depleting energy. The need to sleep is seeping back into my brain. Into my bones.

"Damon!" She's anxious now.

I wait it out as long as I can stand. Then, when the heat hits my midriff and the thin cotton of my shirt is permeable enough that my skin starts to scorch, I move. Slower than I'd like to, but as fast as I can. To the left.

I hear her sigh but she doesn't say a word about it. I'm strangely disappointed. Then I'm disappointed in myself for thinking that way.

I know I'm gonna pass out in a moment, I can feel it. I turn toward the wall and wrap my arms around my head. Elena's fine, for now. The Hunter – Connor – will likely be back soon. I should be making a plan to try to get us out of here, but I know my fickle body is too weak to carry out any such plans. A rude awakening will surely be coming, but for now I let myself give into it and fall into oblivion.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N** I can't thank you guys enough for all your kind reviews and Favourite Story, Favourite Author and Author Alert adds! Seriously. I'm floored by all the positive response to this story! You guys rock.

Extra special thank you to Layla Reyne, morvamp and JWAB for your help with this chapter. These 3 ladies are amazing authors and I'd highly recommend you check out their profiles.

* * *

**Chapter 4**

_Warm hands on my naked skin. Soft lips brush my ear, tickle along my neck. Trail their way down my torso. The sultry scent of night-blooming jasmine swirls into my senses mingled with the sweetness of the freshest honey. It makes me hungry, ravenous. But not for blood._

_For her._

_I open my eyes but I can't see her. I can't focus on anything, really. I feel like I'm lying on a cloud. In a cloud. Swirls of bright mist occasionally interrupted by the flash of an olive-toned shoulder, a glimpse of a neatly trimmed fingernail._

_Then I feel those same nails scrape along my thighs. Exploring fingers squeeze my ass. Where did my jeans go? Doesn't matter. _

_I know this isn't real. It's just a fantasy playing in my mind. Has to be. That's okay with me. In my waking life I'm probably dying right now but what a way to go._

_Blunt teeth capture one of my nipples. Fucking hell. Goddamn, that's good. Every part of my body is harder than a diamond. My heart is the only thing left that's soft. Another reason I know it's a dream. My imagination is my very favourite friend right now. My only friend._

_A damp tongue traces across my abs, circles around my belly button. _

"_Elena," I groan with desperate anticipation as her lips tantalizingly make their way lower. I hold my breath in longing. For a moment large, brown eyes loom out of the haze. Sizing me up, drowning me in their depths. God, I love her eyes. I'm a slave to those eyes…_

"Damon?" Her hand is on my shoulder, shaking me gently. A low moan escapes my lips at the loss of her mouth from my skin. I feel too cold without her body against mine.

"Damon? Wake up."

And boom! Just like that I remember exactly where I am, what's going on and who I'm with. Shit. Harsh reality sinks back in. That vision was far too enjoyable to last.

I open my eyes and it's pitch black in here. Good thing I'm a vampire and I can still see shapes and forms in the dark. Bad thing is that without sunshine there's nothing stopping Elena from being right beside me. She's way too close for comfort.

Flinching away from her hand, I try to drag myself into a sitting position. My blood-starved body is having none of it however, and I immediately collapse back to the floor. Her arms slide around me and pull my upper body into her lap. I struggle for a moment but quickly realize I no longer have the strength to remove myself from her embrace.

I am so fucked right now.

"You're all right. I've got you," she assures me. No, no I'm not. Those two things are mutually exclusive.

Her fingertips brush the hair from my forehead and it feels so much like the dream I was just rudely removed from that my cock presses insistently against my jeans. Down, boy. This is so not the time or place. I wonder if she heard me moan her name? If she's noticed my straining erection? I will it to go away. It's not too difficult when so many bad memories come so easily to mind.

"You're cold. Too cold," she observes. Am I? Maybe I am. My mouth is so dry. Thirsty, cold, sore, weak, horny. None of this bodes well.

I realize I could very well die in her arms. We've played this scene already, once. The last thing I ever wanted to do was play it out again. This time it may not end so well.

Maybe I'll get another last kiss before it's over. Another pity kiss. Great.

Maybe Stefan will swoop in with his hero hairdo and rescue us. It's not impossible. Not likely, I admit, but not impossible.

Maybe if I'd met you first.

Too many maybes. I don't like maybes. Maybes fucking suck.

"You need blood, Damon. Didn't you have any when I did?" she asks. I debate lying but what's the point? She'd see right through me. I shake my head, just a little. It takes a lot of energy to even do that.

Next thing I know, she's bitten her wrist and pressed it to my lips, forcing my mouth open against my will. Her blood hits my tongue and my taste-buds immediately begin to sing. But I can't accept this; she needs to keep it, all of it. My hand drifts up and clutches her arm, feebly trying to push it away from my face. She ignores me, of course

Some of her blood finds its way down my throat and then my logical mind turns off and survival instinct kicks in. I start to suck eagerly on her wound and holy hell, if it's not the sweetest thing I've ever fucking tasted. Then she makes this _sound,_ this low guttural groan straight from deep in her gut. And it's _not_ a sound of pain. Not even close. Her back arches up and I swear her whole body is quivering around me. As soon as I hear that low moan my soldier springs right back to attention. Her delectable blood in my mouth and those breathy gasps escaping her sweet lips? Never stood a chance.

If she keeps this up, I'll have my energy back, all right. I'll be rolling over and drilling her into the hard dirt floor. And I suspect she won't complain about it, either.

Which will only lead to regret on both our parts. Not to mention what it would do to my baby bro if we somehow manage to get out of this. Thinking of Stefan is like being dashed with a bucket of ice water. Her fingers are fisting in my hair but I muster up every last shred of damaged willpower I possess and shove her wrist away. I rip myself up off her lap like she burns me. Hell, her eyes, her lips, her voice, her words - she absolutely fucking does.

"What?" she asks, surprise and disappointment obvious in her tone.

"That's enough," I reply. More than enough. Too much. Motherfucking overload.

We sit lost in our own thoughts for a while, close enough to reach out and touch, yet like two remote islands separated by a vast sea.

Finally I break the silence. "You didn't have to do that," I whisper. I don't know why I'm whispering. It just seems to suit the moment.

"Yes, I did. You needed it and it was all I had to give you." She pauses for a beat or five. All she has to give me, huh? That's not what she was thinking five minutes ago. For a moment there she sure as hell wanted to give me a whole lot more than just her blood.

She's talking again, jolting me from reminiscing about those sweet sounds she'd made. "Why didn't you drink some of the blood we had? You gave me all of it."

I sigh. "I did." I leave it at that. She doesn't need to know I only took a small sip so that the majority of it could go to help her. It'd just stem another argument I'd rather avoid.

More time crawls by in silence.

Elena is somewhat weaker than before and I'm stronger but we're both not in very good condition. At some point she slides closer to me and leans against my arm. Part of me wants to, knows that I should, push her away but that wave of exhaustion is coming over me again and I just can't be bothered.

Her scent envelops me, relaxing me further. She grabs a hold of my hand and drags my arm up and around her. She then settles her head onto my chest and rests one palm against my stomach. It's…it's kinda nice. I'm not gonna lie. Just for this moment, just for tonight, it's nice.

I let myself drift off with her tucked into my side, her even breathing and soft, slow heartbeat like a long-forgotten lullaby to my ears.

* * *

The Hunter's footsteps abruptly jolt me out of a dreamless sleep. Instinctively my arm tightens around Elena. She groggily sits up to look at him but doesn't pull away from me. I'm all too aware of how natural it feels to wake up in each other's arms, though we never have before.

I should feel more guilty. I should be more pissed off at myself for allowing this cautious re-connection. And a part of me does feel both of those things. But for now I'm actually okay with it. We can and should present a united front to this asshole.

It's light outside again, a gray and gloomy morning that promises rain. Just what the doctor ordered. How many days have we been here now? Two, I think? Might even be three.

I smell it before I see it. He's holding another blood bag in one hand. My eyes and throat begin to burn and my canines extend at the mere thought of it. I feel Elena grow rigid against my side as she notices it, too.

"Hungry?" he taunts in that deep voice. He smiles knowingly. _Of course we're fucking hungry! You're starving us._ Not for the first time I wonder why we're still alive, what the plan is for us.

"You know damn well we are." Her accusing tone startles me. She's pissed. "Why have you locked us up here? If you're a vampire hunter, why haven't you just killed us?"

There's that Petrova spark. I'm damn proud of her and I swear it makes me love her even more. My eyelids flicker shut for a second at that thought. Wonderful - just what I need.

"Oh, I plan to. No need to worry your pretty little head about that. But you're going to serve a purpose for me first."

Great. We're fucking bait to lure the others here. What else _could_ we be?

I can't look at his face; my eyes keep getting drawn back to that bag of blood in his hands. The smell of it is intoxicating as all hell.

Suddenly Elena is out from beneath my protective embrace and rushing toward him in full vamp face. She grabs onto the bars, reaching one arm through to the bag, then abruptly falls to the floor with a screech, clutching her hands to her chest.

"Vervain coating the metal," he says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. He looks amused when she shoots him daggers from her pain-clouded eyes. "Now you know."

I growl low and deep, menace emanating from me. She turns to look at me as I rise to my feet. "I'm fine," she assures me, holding out her palms in my direction. They're healing, slower than they should be, but healing just the same. She scoots back toward me and I step in front of her. This little tango of ours falls into place as naturally as if it never went away.

"Down, Salvatore," Connor snarks at me like I'm some goddamn untrained puppy. Nothing will make me happier than killing this guy. After some Rebekah-style torture first, I think. I will make him fucking _beg_ me for the respite of death before I finally deliver it.

He tosses me the blood bag and I catch it in one hand. I fumble it slightly, but don't let it fall. Damn reflexes really aren't up to par right now. I glare at him, but I don't say anything. Is he waiting for a 'thank you'? It'll be a cold day in hell.

His gaze shifts to Elena, who's stood up and is now right beside me. "When I took you I assumed you were Katherine Pierce. Imagine my delight at my good fortune to have Elena Gilbert in my hands instead." He arches one eyebrow at her. "Looks like you've been a naughty, naughty girl." I can feel her fury rising - it's just radiating off her and I grab her shoulder with my free hand to prevent her from diving at the bars again.

"Drink up, you two," he chuckles as he walks away.

* * *

Thunder rumbles ominously outside. The storm's rapidly approaching. I suspect a different type of storm is brewing in here. Elena's staring at me like she wants to say something. I've got my head thrown back against the wall and my eyes closed but I can feel the heavy weight of her gaze. No matter where we are or how crowded it is, I can always tell when her eyes are on me.

"Damon," she finally works up the nerve to start.

I cut her off. "Don't."

"Don't what?" she asks quietly and suddenly she is right beside me. I shiver slightly as her breath tickles the hairs on my arm.

"Don't tell me another goddamn thing you've found out about me, another reason why you feel sorry for me or another insight into how much you care about me but you love Stefan. I really don't want to hear it." My voice has an edge sharper than a razor blade.

I think back on the conversation with my brother that fateful night in the SUV heading out of town to dispose of Klaus's body. Stefan, her "epic love", chose a real nice moment of brotherly bonding to manipulate to his own advantage. By telling me he'd leave town if she chose me, he accomplished two things while managing to sound completely magnanimous on the surface. He let me know that he couldn't bear to be around us if, by some miracle, Elena and I ever did get together and he also perfectly set me up to feel obligated to promise the same right back to him. And since we both knew full well she was gonna choose him when it came right down to it, it was pretty obvious he was not so subtly telling me he wanted me to go.

So my brother wanted me gone, my best friend died in my arms and the girl I loved told me she loved my brother and had to let me go. And then she _fucking died_.

Worst. Night. Ever.

In a typical moment of impulse, I softly add, "If we make it out of this alive, I'm leaving."

I hear her inhale sharply. Oh, here we go. Now I've gone and done it. I am a gigantic motherfucking idiot.

_Don't cry, don't cry, don't fucking cry._ I simply cannot deal with her tears.

Maybe if I keep my eyes closed and just don't look at her? I tense my body and attempt to strengthen my resolve.

"You promised you'd never leave me again," she gasps and her voice is as raw as I've ever heard it.

But guilt trips aren't going to work on me, not anymore.

"I did," I grit out. "But, as you're fully aware, Elena, things change. You don't need me to protect you anymore. You have the man you love. And you let me go. Or have you forgotten _that_ little conversation already?"

Oh fuck, she's crying in earnest now. Maybe I could hum loudly to myself so I won't be able to hear it? Yeah, and purple butterflies are gonna fly out of my ass.

If I open my goddamn eyes I know I'll see her huge brown flooded ones staring at me with an oceanful of reproach. And I'll cave and make some other promise I'll regret. Nope. Not gonna happen. No more promises to this girl. The only thing I wanna promise now is to leave her alone once this is over. Forever is one fuck of a long time and someday we may cross paths again, but for the foreseeable future, that's what I want. What I need.

For a while, all I hear is the occasional sniffle. Might be only minutes. Feels like fucking hours. Then suddenly she says, "I remember everything."

"So do I," I reply evenly. There are layers upon of layers of subtext contained within those two three-word sentences, and we both know it.

I risk cracking open one eyelid. She's still sitting beside me, staring off into nothing. Tear tracks streak her cheeks and I have to fight back the nearly uncontrollable urge to wipe them away.

Then she says something that surprises the shit out of me.

"I'm not back together with Stefan, you know. Not in the way you think. We've repaired our friendship, but nothing more."

Now I turn and look directly at her for the first time in hours. "Huh?" It's all I can manage in my shock.

She turns the full force of those eyes on me and I just want to close mine again and form a shield to protect myself, but I can't. "You haven't been around, Damon, and you won't talk to me. I guessed what you'd assumed, but you wouldn't give me the chance to correct you." Her voice is as rough as a three-pack-a-day smoker.

Sparks are flying now. Sparks of anger and also the other kind - the kind that scare the shit out of me because, no. Just no, no, no, no. We are _not_ going there.

I don't know what to say to her. For once in my life, I have no words. She's right, I haven't been around, I haven't let her talk to me. But…but…but, _so what_? So what if they're not back together, yet? What difference does that even make? This girl is poison to every fibre of my being. I cannot, will not, let her back in.

So I opt to not saying anything. I just shut the fuck up.

* * *

The thunderstorm descends and rattles the walls and windows and we sit there in silence for what definitely has to be hours. The sun doesn't make an appearance today. The Hunter does not return to taunt us. Eventually, I manage to fall into a fitful sleep. At some point I wake up and realize that, yet again, she's curled up against me and one of my arms is wrapped around her. How did we manage to fall back into this position a second time? She's sound asleep with her head on my chest. I ponder that for a moment.

Then I drift back off myself with my face buried in her matted hair.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N **_I know I sound like a broken record (do you guys even get that reference anymore? LOL) but I am so very flattered by the love this story has been getting and I want to thank each and every one of you that take the time to leave me a review. They mean so much to me to read and make me smile. You guys are the best! _

_Special thanks to Layla Reyne for beta-ing this chapter for me. I don't know what I'd do without her for this fic - her help has been invaluable._ _If you get a chance, go read her stories, please. _

* * *

**Chapter 5**

At some point I find myself back in the land of consciousness. It's not raining anymore but the natural light's still dim. These small blood rations have drained us both of much of our energy. Elena's head is nestled into the hollow of my neck and shoulder, and I can hear her soft, even breathing in sleep.

I can't detect any signs of life from the rooms above me. Out of boredom and curiosity, I cast my 'net' out further, straining to hear whatever sounds around this building might help me identify where we're being kept.

At first I don't hear anything beyond a few small animals, mice probably, the rustling of leaves in the breeze and an owl hooting somewhere far off. Then, ever so faintly, I pick up distant voices. Arguing voices. One is the Hunter; the other I'm shocked to realize is Little Miss Witchy Wonder herself. I strain to pick up their words.

"… had a deal! You …go after…"

"…hold up my end…"

"…better happen to Elena or…gotten the stake…"

His low reply is inaudible. Her tone is pissed off. Then threatening.

"…promised only…not my best…don't try…hurt you."

"…can't guarantee you…get her out…sleep better knowing…"

"…trusted you…me regret it!"

More low rumbling from him. Her answer is also too faint for me to pick out the words. Then they fade away completely.

Sleep is threatening to obscure my mind again but I know I need to remember this. Bonnie's involved with the Hunter. She knows how he got the stake from me. Hell, maybe she somehow spelled me into telling her where it was hidden. And she's pissed that he has Elena. Sounds like she's trying to broker a deal to get Elena out alive. Seems like a good deal to me. For once I agree with Witchy.

I listen for a long time but don't pick up any other voices. Eventually I give up on fighting the drowsiness any longer.

* * *

When next my eyes open, I'm startled to find Elena's rich brown ones staring back at me. Her head is resting in the crook of my elbow with one hand lying flat against my stomach.

"Do you still love me?" she asks abruptly. The fuck? My eyebrows fly up. There's a question I'm not touching with a four-hundred-and-seventy-three foot pole.

"Do you still love Stefan?" I counter. It's the only deflection I can come up with on short notice. I'm really not alert enough for this conversation. Scratch that – I will never be prepared enough for this conversation.

"It's complicated," she sighs.

I angle my body slightly so that I can face her more fully. "No, it's really not, Elena. It's really simple. You either love him or you don't. And we both know that you do."

A disgruntled expression flickers across her face as she digests this. "Yes," she concedes. "But you're wrong – it's nowhere near that simple. What I feel for him? It's not what it used to be, and I honestly don't think it ever will be again. There's something – someone - between us now."

Are you fucking kidding me? I flick my eyes shut for a second and exhale exasperatedly. I honestly can't believe the words tumbling from her lips right now. It seems to take every last ounce of strength I have to drag my body backward a foot away from her. I hear her suck in a sharp breath as she tries to sit up. She manages to brace her head against the back wall instead of my arm but she gets no more vertical than that. Shit, we're both so done in. Why the hell do we need to make it worse by talking, exactly? I can't stop myself from responding to that ludicrous statement, though.

"Did you really just say that?" I ask sharply. "Cause I have no desire to come between you two lovebirds ever again, thank-you-very-much. In fact, that's the very last place I ever want to be."

She just sighs. "I know you don't. But it's not like I have any choice in the matter. Yes, you've come between Stefan and me. But Stefan also stands between you and me. And I'm in the way of the two of you repairing your relationship, too. Nothing about this works for any of us. Nothing."

Is this somehow a new revelation for her?

"Let me say this one more time just so we're absolutely clear. I am not between you two, and you're not between Stefan and me. Stefan and I haven't had a functional brotherly bond since long before you were even born. As for you guys - seriously, count me out. Go live your happily-ever-after together. I removed myself from that hot mess the night he let you die."

"I know you did," she replies, lifting her gaze to meet mine straight on. "And I don't blame you. I'm really sorry, Damon."

I stare back at her incredulously. I swear one of my eyebrows is probably buried in my hairline right now. "Sorry for what, exactly?" I ask slowly. This oughta be good.

She sucks in a breath as she contemplates my question. "I'm sorry for…sorry for not…sorry for going back to Stefan," she finishes lamely.

That's what I figured.

I'm totally fed up with this conversation and this girl right now. "I hate to break it to you but exactly no one was surprised by your 'choice'. Least of all me." I rip my eyes away from hers and stare at the bars instead, willing the Hunter to show up with some dinner before I lose it and start yelling at her all the reasons she might have to consider maybe, just maybe, apologizing.

After which she'd cry. And complete and utter loser that I am, I'd probably give in and comfort her. And then calliope music would play and we'd just start this stupid fucking carousel ride all over again.

She's quiet for a while. Then she whispers, "I was."

I sigh. I debate not asking, but I just can't seem to help giving in to the temptation. "You were what?"

"I was surprised. I didn't know what I was going to do. You say everyone was so sure I would choose Stefan. How could everyone else be sure, when I wasn't?" Her voice has grown softer.

"Elena, you spend more time on The Good Ship Denial than anyone really has a right to. We all knew, yes, even – especially – Stefan, how you would choose. It was just a matter of you finding the nerve to admit it out loud. I won't accept an apology for that. I absolutely expected it. Won't deny your timing sucked, but I knew. However, if you ever come up with anything that you might actually apologize for, feel free to let me know."

God, this is exhausting me. My brain aches as much, if not more than, my joints right now. Round and round and round we go, where we stop, nobody knows. I swear I'm getting nauseous. I. Want. Off.

"What should I be apologizing for then?" she asks. She's genuinely puzzled. Figures.

I yawn deeply. I can't help it. I so don't want to talk anymore. "Nothing, Elena. Not a goddamn thing."

* * *

Her voice drags me out of sleep a second time. It's pitch dark now and yet again Elena is snuggled against me. How the fuck does this keep happening? I've heard of sleep walking but never sleep cuddling.

"You never answered my question, Damon," she says, so, so quietly.

I'm too tired to work out what she's talking about, so I just mumble, "What?" I find my arms tugging her closer against my side. Traitor arms. I barely have the energy to move my lips and yet there they go, betraying my best intentions of keeping distance between us.

"Do you still love me?" she asks again. This time I can hear the worry in her voice. She's honestly scared I'll say no.

I want to deny it. I'm going to deny it. This has to fucking end.

"It's not like I have any choice in the matter," I finally reply, echoing back her words from earlier and, like it or not, it's the depressing truth. So much for denial. Doesn't matter – she'd almost definitely see through my lie if I tried.

She seems to be satisfied with my answer. Pressing her face into the crook of my neck, she slides her arm more snugly around me. I know I really should push her away again, but the sad fact is that right now I simply can't. Mentally or physically. Right now, at this very moment, I'm stuck with her right where she is. And truth be told, much as I hate to admit it, there's still a part of me that's just fine with that.

My resolve to leave town if we survive this hasn't wavered. Once we're free and life returns to normal, whatever the fuck that is anymore, I'll deal with the fallout of all this.

Suddenly I feel her lips on my skin. Dammit, Elena, don't spoil the peace of the moment by forcing me to have to move away from you. But she just kisses my neck. Once. Then she murmurs, "I don't, either."

* * *

When I wake up next, it's still dark. I strain to see or smell if a much-needed bag of blood has been left for us while we were sleeping. Nope. Nothing. This is so not good.

Elena is out, her head turned toward me and resting on my abdomen like a pillow. Her long dark lashes lie in sharp contrast against her pale skin. Yes, pale. She needs blood badly now. I bet I'm pretty Casper-like myself.

She seems so damn peaceful when she's asleep. So young. So innocent. She looks barely fifteen or sixteen when she's completely relaxed like this. I thought that before she transitioned and I still think it now.

God, I'm such a pussy when it comes to this girl. I really need to harden the fuck up. And I swear I will. Once I'm home and fed and showered and I have some distance again.

I can't help but study the soft lines of her face as she rests on me, though. The curve of her cheekbone as it glides along to meet her smooth jaw, the sweep of her dark hair off her forehead as it cascades down to messy tangles that I crave to touch, the gentle flicker and pout of her lips as she worries about something or someone, even in her dreams. The sad truth is that I'm still so fucking gone on her, it's not even funny. Well, not to me. It's probably hysterical to everyone else.

As I watch her, memorize her for the thousandth time, her eyelids flicker open and we lock into each other's gaze. I'm unable to look away, just like before. Before everything went all to shit.

A voice in my head is warning me, screaming at me to avert my eyes but I don't listen this time. I simply hold on to her easy stare. It's nowhere near as difficult as I thought it would be. She looks so open and vulnerable and I know she wants to say something but I truly hope she doesn't break the silence for a while. When she finally speaks, it will undoubtedly bring a sudden end to this fragile armistice of ours.

You'd think we wouldn't be able to move quickly in our current state, wouldn't you? And you'd probably be right. But in my ever-shrinking world what happens next happens in a heartbeat, although in reality it's probably heartbreakingly slow.

We move toward each other, pulled without any conscious thought or choice, like two magnets drawn together by unstoppable forces of nature.

Somehow my hand has reached up to cup her cheek.

Then our lips come together and it doesn't even matter that we're blood-starved and lethargic and probably half-dead. It doesn't even matter that whatever the hell 'this' is between us, it's monumentally fucked-up, surely way past the point of repair. It doesn't even matter that I swore, that I fucking promised myself over and over, to never, never let this girl in again. At the moment none of that matters one tiny bit.

The only thing that's important to me right now is Elena. And her mouth moving against mine. And how I lose myself in her completely each and every time this happens. And how this is the closest to Heaven that I'll ever fucking get. And how much I want it. Want this. Want her.

I think maybe time has been kind to me for once in my life and chosen to stand still.

But, as usual, I'm torn ruthlessly from any rare moment of happiness I might find.

It's not Jeremy who cock-blocks us this time, it's Stefan. And Katherine. And some of the others. I can't be pissed off at our little rag-tag rescue squad about the interruption, not really. Really, the massive favour they're doing me is so much more than just saving my sorry ass from this prison.

Luckily we hear them before we see them and quickly separate. She may not be back together with him yet, but that look of guilt on her face when she hears Stefan's voice upstairs calling her name tells me far more than she's willing to admit.

Blondie's face appears at the bars and Elena's sudden cry of "Don't!" isn't fast enough to stop her from grabbing them. She hisses in pain and flies back, clutching her hands to her chest much like Elena did the other day.

"Did you bring any humans with you?" I ask. My voice is rough and weak. Much more so than it was when I used it last.

She shakes her head mutely, still wincing from the vervain burns to her now-healing fingers.

Elena pipes up. "You'll need to find the key then, Care. Also maybe some gloves?"

Then Lockwood is beside her, checking out her hands to make sure the poor dear isn't hurt, cause there's absolutely no rush to get us out of here or anything. They turn to leave, hopefully to look for the key or to break down a wall or something useful like that.

"And Care?" She looks back at us at the sound of her friend's voice. "Any blood bags handy?"

"I'll check," Barbie replies.

"Hurry, please," Elena begs her. I just implore her with my eyes.

Less than a minute later Katherine is in front of us and tosses two bags through the bars. I manage to grab one and the other lands near Elena's feet.

I notice Katherine studying the barred door to our cell. She suddenly braces a booted foot against the lock and with one hard kick knocks the entire thing inward. It slams loudly against the back wall mere inches from Elena's head. I briefly consider whether its landing spot was an accident or not.

Thank fuck someone around here has been blessed with common sense. For the second time this week I'm shockingly grateful Katherine's come back to town. She steps inside our cell and looks me over with interest. Is that a smidge of concern for my well being I detect in her eyes? Nah, not fucking likely.

As I gulp down the blood, the fog that has settled over the logical part of my brain the past few hours begins to lift and I remember something that occurred to me the other day. That bit about us being bait to lure the rest of them in. Shit! Raw panic surges in my chest.

"Katherine!" I rasp, as I toss my emptied bag to the side and scramble to my feet. "It's a trap! We've gotta get the fuck out of here right now!"

Without a word she blurs upstairs and I turn to Elena, who is still sucking back her own blood ration but has risen to her feet at my words. I grip both her shoulders and look intently into her fearful brown eyes.

"We need to make a run for it. Think you're up to moving quickly now?" One of my palms slides up the curve of her neck to gently cup the side of her jaw.

Dropping the drained bag to the floor, she holds my gaze with a determined expression and nods confidently.

As I guide her out of the cell, I let my fingers trail softly down her arm before she races ahead of me up the stairs. Before I follow, however, I take a glance around the adjacent basement room past our little corridor. Thinking quickly, I decide to take a moment to examine a suspicious-looking crude wooden doorway that has been roughly cut right through the concrete of the dank wall. When I drag it open, to my surprise I find a black tunnel disappearing ahead of me into the earth. What the hell? I can hear the scurrying of small critters deep in it's depths, but this is obviously a man-made burrow, and dug not all that long ago either. Venturing a few steps inside, I look and listen intently.

Before I have a chance return to the others, the ground around me shudders. I brace my hands on either side of the earthen tunnel as, with a low woomph, the building above me explodes into flames.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N** _I know I sound like a broken record, but thank you for all your incredibly fabulous reviews and Story and Author Favourites. Knowing what my readers think of my writing is the best gift any of you could give me and each and every reviews matters to me. Special massive thank you to LaylaReyne for betaing. She's got some great stories herself, please go read them! _

_Hope you guys like this chapter. This will be all finished before S4 starts, I promise!_

* * *

**Chapter 6**

The force of the blast slams the heavy wooden door shut behind my back and actually propels me several feet forward into the tunnel. I land hard with my face pressed into the earth. Fuck!

Fear squeezes me tightly in its suffocating grasp as I realize what's happened. I leap to my feet and frantically try to reopen the door, but it's not budging and it's way too thick for me to break down. The surface below my palms is rapidly growing hot, really hot. I know I'm not going anywhere in that direction – not if I want to live much longer.

God damn it! Did Elena make it out safely? Did Stefan? I wish I could pick up their voices but all I hear are crashing timbers and fire wreaking havoc and destruction on the other side. Slamming my fists into the unyielding wood, I howl out my impotent frustration. I so wish it was the Hunter instead of this door that I'm pounding on. My face will be the last thing he sees, right before I tear his throat out with my teeth. Slowly.

I hope like hell that they got out, but there's absolutely no way for me to know for sure right now. And part is me is confident they're okay, trying to convince my panicky mind that I'd surely sense it if my brother, my sire or the girl I love more than life itself died. But a much larger part of me is completely freaked the fuck out.

She can't be dead. She just can't. There's no way I can go through that again.

Backing down the dark tunnel, I move away from the door that's sure as shit gonna start to smolder before much longer. This passageway has to lead somewhere, presumably to a hidden exit where I'll be able to regroup with the rest of them. I turn and let my fingers trail along the earthen walls as I make my way though it.

When I reach the end, I push upward and come out behind a tangle of low spruce bushes in the forest. The glow of the inferno shooting into the sky from the collapsing building in the distance blinds me for a moment and illuminates the clearing around me brighter than sunshine. I instinctively duck behind the shrubs to shield my face from the glare.

From somewhere in that direction, I can hear their voices. I exhale sharply in massive relief and straighten back up with every intention of joining them. Katherine, Stefan, Lockwood. Blondie is sobbing about something. But then, eclipsing them all, comes Elena's hysterical screams. She's yelling my name, begging for Stefan to save me. My brother is unresponsive at first, then I hear him tell her that they can't go back in there. His voice sounds strangled.

Elena is literally freaking out, demanding that they have to find me. From the sounds of frustration she's making, I get the distinct impression someone is restraining her. She yells that I could die. No one replies to this.

And then it hits me. They knew I was still in the basement when the building exploded. That was at least ten or fifteen minutes ago now. The rest of them must think it's too late, that I didn't make it out, and they're just trying to prevent Elena from rushing back into the flames to find me.

So…I should really step forward, right? Reassure them I'm okay? Relieve Elena of her worry? Yes, I should. It's the right thing to do, isn't it? So why am I slumping back down to the forest floor?

I think about her words from earlier. I hear her voice in my head telling me, _"There's something – someone - between us now," _and, _"Yes, you've come between Stefan and me."_ And I vividly recall that look of guilt on her face when we broke apart, after she heard my brother's voice upstairs when he finally showed up to rescue us.

She loves him. He loves her. She spent months and months fighting for him, fighting for them, while he ran around the country slaughtering people with Klaus (and don't even get me _started_ on that subject). I honestly have no real clue why, for some crazy reason, she thinks I've come between them now. After all he's done and all she's willing to overlook, I don't see how even a single sheet of paper could come between them.

But what if I wasn't anymore? This could be one golden-fucking-opportunity right here. What if I just let them think I'm dead? I could get away unhindered and get on with the getting on with the rest of my life. They could mourn me and move on and be happy together. She wouldn't come looking for me. She would get over whatever remorse she'd feel at first and then go forward. And be happy. With Stefan. Which is what she really wants, isn't it? She deserves to be with the man she loves, the man who makes her happy. And there's no doubt in my mind that my brother is that guy. It sure as shit isn't me. It could never be me.

Taking a deep breath, I try not to think too hard about how never seeing either one of them again will affect me. I studiously ignore the way my gut clenches and the wave of nausea that sweeps over me at the very idea. Because the more I think about it, the more I realize that this would be the best thing for all of us.

So I don't say anything and I don't go out to them. In fact, I move further and further back into the forest until I can't hear their voices (and Elena's screaming) anymore. I find a secluded spot and I sit with my elbows braced on my knees, watching until the glow in the sky from the fire begins to dim. After everything that's happened the past several weeks, my mind feels absolutely fucking numb right now.

* * *

Yesterday, for just a moment there, time stood still for me. Today it seems to drag on endlessly.

It's a beautiful sunny day and here I am, sans daylight ring, stuck inside somebody's garage - a very crowded, very smelly, very dirty garage. An antique lime-green Beetle takes up most of the available floor space. I'd bet that puppy hasn't been driven in at least a quarter of a century. Probably longer. Stacks and stacks of overflowing boxes line two walls, a grimy, cluttered workbench takes up the third and the dented and rusty garage door, the fourth. I suspect at one time it was bright yellow, but now it's just a non-colour.

To pass time, I investigate the contents of the moldering boxes. I'm amused to discover a collection of ancient, dusty Playboys. Jackpot! Perusing them makes a sizable dent in the seemingly endless afternoon. They really do have great articles, I swear.

Finally, the sun goes down and I'm able to get the hell out of here. I cram a trucker's hat that was hanging on a peg on the wall down low over my eyes, pull on a dingy gray jacket I found in the corner and make my way out into the dimly lit streets of Mystic Falls.

As long as I'm still in town, I'll have to stay hidden or at least go incognito. I won't be here much longer, but there are definitely a couple of things I need to take care of before I blow this popsicle stand.

First up on my list: kill that fucking Hunter. Leisurely and excruciatingly.

Since I have no idea where to even begin to look for Connor, I head in the direction of Liz Forbes' place. I figure for starters I'll eavesdrop around and see what I can find out.

Skulking stealthily around back, I hear Blondie's voice inside. She's talking a mile a minute as usual. I freeze below the kitchen window.

In five minutes flat I think I learn more from Caroline spewing off to her mother than I would have if I'd actually been with the Scooby Gang all day today.

First things first. She was badly burned in last night's fire. Her wolfhound boyfriend assured her if she had Original blood, she'd heal faster. He called for Elijah to come, who, as it turns out, came willingly enough because he's his motherfucking _brother_, because – get this – Witchy-Poo put Klaus inside Lockwood's body moments before he was staked. And of course she didn't bother to share this tidbit of useful information with anyone. Fucking witches!

This means there's a decent chance Klaus is our vampire line's poppa bear after all. At the moment I don't know whether I'm more relieved or annoyed by this bizarre turn of events.

Blondie's reaction is several light-years past annoyed, however. She's fucking livid. I tune out much of her outrage, although I agree that she has every right to be.

Second big thing. Elijah and Klaus/Tyler found the Hunter earlier today and made short work of him. She doesn't go into a lot of detail unfortunately, but from what she does say, my imagination fills in the missing pieces and I figure they actually rendered that asshole limb from fucking limb. God, I hope so. He deserved as painful an end as possible. I'm delighted he's dead but super pissed that I didn't get to have a hand in it myself. Pun definitely intended.

So, one problem down, one still to go. Then I can finally leave this shitty little town in my dust.

I turn to go before Vampire Barbie's sensitive ears detect me outside, but before I can move I hear Liz ask her daughter, in a sad voice, how Stefan's doing. And I realize that she means about me. About me having "died". Which stops me in my tracks.

"Not well," comes the subdued reply. "Neither's Elena. She's completely messed up, Mom, and I feel so helpless. I don't know what to even do for her."

It sounds like they're embracing and I have to suppress a sigh. I feel like such an ass. It didn't cross my mind that me being gone would affect Liz, but of course it would. She and I have been friends for quite awhile now. In fact, she's maybe my only real friend left at this point. Huh.

I shake my head. I honestly don't want Liz or Stefan or Elena to mourn me. But unfortunately, hurting them in the short term is the fall-out of my decision and I'll just have to live with it.

Liz starts asking her daughter if they're planning some kind of memorial for me and that's my cue to leave. I really don't want to know about that stuff.

So I push the guilt to the back of my mind and take off to find myself a blood donor and a deserted house with a decent booze supply.

* * *

Finding a willing victim is not so easy pickings any more. Not with the town's water supply currently tainted with vervain to prevent compulsion. I luck out, however, and find a single cougar-type who's just arrived here to visit her sister. Not gonna lie, she's pretty hot and, as expected, totally wants me. There's no doubt she's offering me more than just dinner. But honestly, I'm really not into it. I know, Hell just froze over, right? What the fuck is wrong with me that I'm turning down sex with a gorgeous redhead? Obviously I'm not right in the head tonight. All I take is some blood and her memory of meeting me before I send her off on her merry way.

Acquiring a mickey of cheap whiskey from her car, I decide to head on over to the cemetery and share a toast or two with Ric. Goddamn, but I miss him sometimes. Most times. He never should have died. He never should have come to town in the first place. I can barely comprehend that he's not still sitting at the bar at the Mystic Grill waiting for me to show up and slide onto the stool next to him. Now he's just another casualty of the colossally ridiculous war with Klaus and his family. A war that Stefan started. And Klaus came here in the first place because of the doppelganger. Cause and effect. It's too much to think about right now.

Before I can lay eyes on the newly erected headstone, I hear her voice. Silently, I take cover behind a large oak tree and sink to the grass. Fuck. She would be here, wouldn't she? Can't even have a few moments of peace with Ric.

She's talking to him and I can't help but overhear.

"You might not have always known what to do with Jer and I, or felt like you were being a very good role-model, but we needed you and you were there for us. I still keep expecting you to walk in the front door with a pizza box and a folder of papers to grade under your arm. Just can't believe I'll never see you again. Jeremy misses you so much. I do, too."

I hear the unmistakable sound of Miss Gilbert swigging from her own bottle. Could it be we both had the same idea for drowning our sorrows tonight? Wonders will never cease.

"I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am for what happened to you, Ric. And now what's happened to Damon, too." My heart twists at the low sob she emits after gasping out my name. "Mystic Falls is cursed. I'm cursed. If you'd never come here, if you'd never met me, you'd both still be alive. It's all my fault."

I hear her sniffle and the slosh of the bottle upending again. I suspect she's well on her way to plastered. Good thing she can hold her liquor now.

"You were always straight with me, you always pushed me to be strong and independent. Before you came along, everyone constantly tried to shield me from everything. Even now, Stefan still does. And I know I need to be strong for Jeremy but without you, without Damon, I just don't know if I can do it."

Sure you can, Elena. I have every faith in you. You're surrounded by people who love you. You always have been. And your brother is way stronger than you give him credit for.

"I messed up with Damon, Ric. I messed up really bad. And now he's gone and I'll never get the chance to tell him how I really feel." Swish. Sob. "And how sorry I am for taking him for granted for so long."

Figures. It takes me fucking dying for her to finally figure out something worthy of an apology? I hear a low glugging sound and realize she's spilled some of whatever she's got onto the ground. Cheers, Ric. I hope it's one of your favourites.

"One for me, one for you. This is from Damon's secret stash, you know." She pauses for a moment, obviously reading the label. "Evan Williams Bourbon, 1988. That's five years before I was even born! I hope 1988 was a good year for you both."

Are you fucking kidding me, Elena? You're not only getting loaded on it, but you're also pouring my $200 a bottle Evan Williams 24 year-old bourbon into the dirt? Ah, well. It's not like I can go back and drink any of them myself now. And Alaric deserves the tribute. I wish I'd shared my expensive booze with him more often when he was alive. He'd always appreciated the high-end stuff.

I stand up and as I do, I catch the slight sound of her surprised gasp. Shit. Did she hear me?

"Is someone there?" she calls. Her voice drops lower and she chokes out, "If you know what's good for you, you'll get as far away from here as you possibly can. Everyone that gets close to me dies. I'm the fucking kiss of death."

She starts to cry harder and the urge to go to her nearly overwhelms me. It takes absolutely every last thread of my shrinking resolve to speed away. I keep repeating the same five words over and over to myself like a mantra.

_She's better off without me.  
She's better off without me.  
She's better off without me._


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N** _Big thank you to Layla Reyne for beta-ing this chapter for me. Her help with this story has been invaluable. Even bigger Thank You to all of you that review and favourite. Your reviews mean the world to me and I'm not exaggerating when I tell you I cannot wait to read each and every one. Hey, for those of you reading that don't have a fanfiction account - did you know you can still leave reviews on here? Yep, you can. I didn't know that before I made my account. Anyway, hope you enjoy chapter 7. Not too much longer to go now._

* * *

**Chapter 7**

I wake up groggy and disoriented. A hand is insistently shaking my shoulder. When I wrench open my eyes, Katherine's stern face is staring down at me. Not for one single second do I mistake her for Elena.

Where the hell am I again?

"What the _fuck_ are you doing, Damon?" she demands harshly. Then it all comes flooding back to me, and I remember that I'd crashed on a couch in an empty house on the south side of town, after draining every last bottle from their liquor cabinet.

Thank fuck I'm a vampire or I'd surely be nursing the world's worst hangover. The pain I'm not in right now might soon be replaced by another kind of pain though, if the look on Katherine's face is any indication.

"You do realize we all thought you were _dead_, right?" she asks, arching one perfectly tweezed brow. She's clearly waiting for some sort of explanation for why I'm still taking up space.

"Why? Were you _sad_, Katherine?" I reply sarcastically. "Were you mourning my passing? Somehow I doubt it." I drag myself into an upright position and scrub one hand over my face, coming away with a layer of days-old grime on my fingers. Lovely. Priority one at the moment: a hot shower.

She just gives me an imperious look, but doesn't answer my question. She's tapping her foot and glaring at me, waiting for me to tell her exactly why I've been incommunicado for the past couple days.

Instead I stand up and push past her. People still live in this house; it's not a foreclosure or abandoned. I hope like hell they're away on vacation because I need a shower, and I can't actually leave until the sun goes down, which looks to be still another hour or so off yet.

Katherine follows me as I head upstairs. Ignoring her isn't going to work, not that I ever really thought it would.

"Damon, stop," she demands, as I pull off my grimy t-shirt and drop it to the bathroom floor.

"Stop taking my clothes off? You've never said that to me before," I smirk at her.

"I assume you'd like me to keep your little secret?" she asks, knowing full well the answer.

"Fine," I reply evenly. "Yes, I knew you'd all think I was dead. As it turns out, I'm perfectly okay with that concept. And yes, now that you mention it, I would really like it if you'd keep the truth of that little factoid to yourself."

"And _why_ would I do that?"

I sigh. "I'm pretty sure you know exactly why I decided to let them think I died, Katherine. It's better for everyone if they believe I'm gone for good. You, of all people, should understand that." I raise one brow and stare at her pointedly.

A flash of irritation crosses her perfect features. "This isn't about the choices I've made. I know two vampires who would disagree with your assessment. Your brother's inconsolable. He blames himself."

"Of course he does. He always blames himself. It's what he does best. If someone got a hangnail he was too late to prevent, he'd feel guilty about it for months. Don't worry, he'll get past it eventually. Hell, give him some human blood and he'll get past it real fast." I start to unbutton my jeans as I speak.

"I've gotta give you credit, Damon. I knew you could be a gigantic asshole, but I would never have pegged you to fake your own death. You really think this is the right choice? You truly don't care about the anguish you're putting them through?"

Katherine's questions cause a jagged stab of guilt, so I decide to change the subject. "Hey, so I heard the Hunter was dealt with yesterday. Hopefully slowly and with maximum suffering. _Please_ tell me they recovered the stake?" I look at her hopefully.

"Elijah has it. I'd feel better if _I_ had it, but…" she trails off and shrugs.

Something else occurs to me. "You know if anyone's found my daylight ring?"

"Actually, yes," she replies. "Elena's got it. Stefan wanted it but she refused to give it to him. Good luck getting it back from her if you don't want her to know you're still around."

"Shit," I mutter. Now I'm stuck indoors all day, every day, until I can find a witch at some point to spell me another one. And who knows how the fuck long _that's_ gonna take. Dammit.

"Aren't you gonna ask me how she is?"

I stop in the act of stripping off my jeans and glance up at her. "No. I'm not. Now, if you're not gonna join me, how 'bout you skedaddle and let me shower in peace?"

She snorts and walks out.

Looking down at my hands, I notice they're actually shaking a little bit. Fuck. I need to get away from Mystic Falls in the worst possible way.

* * *

When I get downstairs, unfortunately dressed in the same dirty jeans I had on before and a plain gray t-shirt that's at least two sizes too large that I found in a bedroom, I discover Katherine sitting on the couch, making herself at home in the dimly-lit living room. Lovely. How the hell did she even find me here anyway? Although, it _is_ Katherine we're talking about. I have no doubt she notices subtle clues others would miss.

"Did you have to drink all the alcohol in the house, Damon? Couldn't leave a few drops for anyone else?" she complains, when I come into view.

"Why are you still here?" I counter.

"Two reasons. One, figured you could use this." She pulls off a silver lapis lazuli ring from her index finger and holds it out to me. "Thought it might fit on your pinky until you can get yourself a new one made."

Giving her a derisive look, I scoff, "Are you planning to roast marshmallows over me when I step outside and burst into flame? I'm not an idiot, Katherine. I know your ring won't work for me. They're spelled specific to the vampire."

"Not this ring," she replies simply. "I had it specially made to work on any vampire. Just in case. You know I like to have all my bases covered."

When I don't take it right away, she adds, "Do you want it or not? No skin off my ass if you'd rather hide in here all day."

I stare at her incredulously. Since when is Katherine Pierce thoughtful of others? I can't help but be suspicious as I slip her ring onto the small finger of my left hand. "What do you want in return?"

"Nothing. Just for you to give it back to me when you get a replacement. I have several pieces of jewelry spelled for daylight protection. Never know when a girl might need a back-up," she replies, adding a tight grin.

"How considerate of you." I'm still skeptical as hell of her motives. "What's the second reason?"

"I assume you haven't left town yet because the Vampire Council knows who we are. Right?"

I nod. "Only thing still holding me back."

"I'm gonna help you fix that problem."

"Why the _fuck_ would you help me? What's in it for you?" I ask warily.

"Why does there have to be something in it for me?" She bats her lashes and gives me a fake wide-eyed innocent look that wouldn't fool a three year-old.

"Have you met _you, _Katherine?"

"Let's just say…I think it could be in my best interests," she finally answers dismissively, standing up and walking toward me.

"Stefan-related interests, I presume?" I state dryly. Cause it always is.

"Look, Damon – do you want my help or not? Because, unlike you, I don't have to hide from the others. Dressed as Elena, I can openly go talk to anyone in town. And my powers of compulsion are way stronger than yours. So really, I'm your best bet to shorten the time between now and you hightailing it out of this shitty little town."

She's right, of course. This would be much easier with her on my side. I have a sudden flash of inspiration. Maybe I can take advantage of this rare magnanimous side of hers and talk her into retrieving my Camaro and hiding it someplace on the edge of town. I'll have to remember to bring that up with her later.

"Fine," I reply, trying to sound more irritated with the idea than I actually am. "Let's get this plan in motion. Tonight. I've got anywhere else to be."

* * *

Over the past few days, Katherine and I have actually been pretty damn productive. Between the two of us, we took each member of the Council by surprise, knocked them out and barricaded them in the old tomb under the ruins of Fell's Church to wait for them to de-vervain. Contrary to popular belief, we aren't completely cruel - we left them food, water, light and blankets. Katherine even threw in some trashy magazines and suduku books to pass the time. I swear I have no idea who the fuck she even _is_ right now. Hope all this congeniality pays off for her. Honestly, it's freaking me out a bit.

Today should be long enough now for the vervain to have cleared their systems and we'll go down there shortly to compel them to forget what Psycho Vamp Ric told them about us. I make a mental note to ensure that I get Liz and Carol their jobs back while I'm at it. Since she saved Elena, I'll see if they can't put in a good word for Meredith, too, but I'm not sure if the Founder's Council will be able to sway the hospital board on that or not. I'll plant the seed on her behalf, but I'm not planning on sticking around long enough to see if it actually takes root.

Katherine retrieved some of my clothes for me, a few of my favourite books and even snuck out a bottle of prized bourbon I had hidden in my bedroom at the boarding house. She assured me nothing she took would be noticed, and I believe her, cause really, why would they notice a few missing items of mine? I doubt either my brother or Elena have much of a mental catalogue of my stuff.

But I'm not allowing myself to dwell on either of them right now. I just can't.

My car had been inside the garage at the foreclosed home I'd been staying at before we were kidnapped. Taking it with me was a risky decision, as at some point one of them would surely come looking for it. So Katherine just told Stefan she was commandeering it. He argued with her; she won. Case closed.

And by the time the sun goes down tonight, I intend to be gunning it down the highway, with Mystic Falls nothing but a speck in the distance. _I cannot fucking wait._

* * *

I meet Katherine at the church ruins in the woods and together we trot downstairs to check on the imprisoned Council members. It takes only about an hour to thoroughly compel all of them. I want them to remember about vampires and that they're a threat that they all still need to be vigilant about, but now they believe Caroline, Tyler, Katherine, Stefan and myself are human. I threw in Klaus and Elena for good measure, since I'm not sure who all they know about or what that motherfucker Connor may have told them.

Katherine heads out to drive them, one group at a time, back to town in my car. The sun is starting to set and the forest is getting dark. I can tell some of these people are growing antsy to get home. They'll get a surprise when they find out they've been M.I.A. for more than two days.

Before she takes the final three, she pulls me aside. "Anything else you need me to get for you?" she asks, looking at me pointedly.

My eyes widen. "Which vampire doppelganger _are_ you, anyway? You're not yelling at me, so that rules out Elena, and you're sure as fuck being way too nice to be Katherine."

She doesn't deign to answer that. Katherine has her own reasons for doing every damn thing she does; she always has and she always will. But I wouldn't be me if I didn't mock her unusual affability.

Finally I just sigh, "I think I'm good. I'll wait here for you to bring my car back. And could'ja make it quick? I'm in a bit of a hurry."

"Last chance," she says. "Are you _sure_, Damon?"

I realize she's not asking whether I want another bottle or t-shirt. But about the only thing I am sure of anymore is that I need to put some major distance between me and the good citizens of this town. Playing dead just means I don't have to say goodbye.

Waving my hand toward the car in a shooing gesture, I simply reply, "Go."

After she leaves I go back down into the tomb to impatiently kill time until she returns. Maybe I'll work a suduku while I'm waiting.

* * *

About an hour later, I hear the unmistakable sound of my Camaro's engine approaching, then my brakes screeching as it's stopped along the shoulder of the dirt access road. Geez, Katherine, do you have to be so rough with my baby? This is exactly why I normally don't let anyone else drive my car. No respect.

I have no clue what the fuck took her so long, but right now I'm way more interested in getting my own ass on the road than bitching at her about the delay.

Wiping my hands on the thighs of my jeans, I trot up the steps to meet her…

…and find myself face-to-face with an extremely pissed off Elena. Before I even have time to register my shock, her fist connects with my face, and she sends me flying right back down the stairs to land hard on the stone floor.

Pushing myself up, I rub my aching jaw with a frown. Fuck, that girl's got quite the right hook on her these days. That really hurt! Not that I didn't deserve it, but still.

She's standing at the foot of the steps glaring daggers at me. Her eyes are flashing and her hands are balled up on either side of her. She's so fucking riled up that her fists are literally shaking with fury. She is Athena, Goddess of War, embodied. My beautiful Angel of Death about to strike. Her visage may be the last goddamn thing I ever see before she annihilates me, but you know what? I'm completely okay with that.

She opens her mouth and then shuts it again. Once. Twice. A third time. She's too angry to even form words right now. I have never seen her like this before. It's…it's…it's actually really fucking _hot_, okay? So sue me.

Then tears break free and start coursing down her cheeks, which kinda throws a damper on my ardor and disrupts her warrior princess look. And still, she makes no sound. I can't stop my heart from cracking just looking at her.

Extending both hands toward her, palms out in supplication, I softly beg, "Elena…"

At the sound of my voice she fucking detonates. She howls as she rushes at me and violently knocks me to the floor. Next thing I know, she's sitting square on my chest and has my arms pinned above my head. Seriously, if it weren't for the tears streaking her face, I would be so monumentally turned on right now. Yeah, okay, not gonna lie - I sorta am anyway.

"How…" she spits out. "How COULD you, Damon? " A huge sob erupts from her as she smacks me hard on the chest. Fucking hell, was that the crack of a rib?

I open my mouth to say something – anything – but before I can even get a single word out, her face drops to mine and she's kissing me.

Tearing my hands free, I instinctively thread my fingers into her hair and, without any hesitation, kiss her back. I'm fully aware that, for her, this is about relief and anger and desperation; it's not about passion or love. Honestly, I don't even really know what's going on right now. Does she still want to kill me? Is she just relived I'm not dead?

If nothing else, this can be our kiss goodbye.

She suddenly pushes herself off me, stands up and faces into the corner, presumably to try to pull herself back together. Her shoulders are shaking. I think I might be a little bit, too. Then she turns and captures my gaze. "How could you do that to me?" she asks again, in a quiet voice fraught with heavy emotion.

I know I need to say something, but I also know there's nothing I can possibly say that will make her feel better. And I can't lie to her. "I knew I shouldn't have fucking trusted Katherine. I assume she told you?"

She nods.

I take a deep breath. "She shouldn't have done that. It would've been better if you didn't know."

"Didn't know _what_? That you were _fine_? I thought you were _dead_! Don't you get that? I thought you were dead. Do you have any idea what that did to me?" All the previous adrenaline-fueled energy leaves her and she sits down heavily on the bottom step.

Tearing her eyes from mine, she buries her face in her hands. Through her fingers, she sighs. "After everything, I just can't understand how you could let me think that I'd lost you, too. I didn't even know how to function anymore, how to go on. I didn't know how to _be_. There was this gaping hole inside me. I'd lost nearly everyone and then…then…without you, I was just…I was empty. Hollow. Without you, I couldn't find _me_."

Her voice drops so low I can barely pick up her words, even with my enhanced hearing. "Without you, I wanted to die."

Holy fuck. I'm the biggest piece of shit that ever lived, aren't I? Hell has a special place reserved for people like me. And she truly is the Angel of Death because she's ripping my fucking heart out here. I get up and go to kneel in front of her. "Elena…"

Lifting her eyes to mine, she silences me with one soft sentence. "If that's not love, Damon, I don't know what is."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Lifting her eyes to mine, she silences me with one soft sentence. "If that's not love, I don't know what is."

I freeze – both physically and mentally – at that goddamn word on her lips. All the shit that's gone down between us recently comes rushing back to me, in flash after flash.

"_Well, maybe that's the problem."_

"If you're mad at me, Damon, you need to get over it."

"You know, if you keep pushing people away, you're gonna end up alone."

"_What is **wrong** with you?"_

"_Maybe you're not the right person to be teaching Stefan about self-control."_

"_It's what you do, Damon. You sabotage things. I mean, think about it, every time there's a bump in the road, you lash out."_

"_I love him, Damon. He came into my life at a time when I needed someone and I fell for him instantly. No matter what I feel for you, I never unfell for him."_

"_I care about you, Damon, which is why I have to let you go."_

And that's it. That's the bottom line. No matter what she might be saying right now, everything she's said and done previously tells me the exact opposite.

From the expression on her face right now, I'm pretty sure she expects me to respond by sweeping her into my arms, telling her I love her, too, and that I'll never leave her again. And, you know, it would be so easy to do just that. There's a part of me screaming to not be such a fool and just give in.

"Elena, stop," I state firmly, straightening up. "You have every right to be mad at me. Fuck, you have every right to hate me. But don't you dare talk to me about love. Just don't."

Her head tilts slightly at my words. She doesn't understand.

I sigh. "You don't love me. You can't. It's…you just can't. "

"Why not?"

"You know why. You know exactly why. Hell, I bet you probably have a list of reasons tucked under your pillow. In your head, at least. But just in case you're currently suffering from amnesia, let me remind you." I lift my hand and start to count on my fingers for added visual effect as I pace in front of her. "I compelled you. Twice. I force-fed you my blood. Twice. I had sex with Rebekah, who was actively and repeatedly trying to kill you. Twice."

I can't help but cringe at the memory of how she eventually succeeded. But now is not the time to get all maudlin about the largest of my many failings, so I quickly continue. "I had sex with, fed from and compelled Caroline multiple times. Since I came to town, I've killed Matt's sister, Bonnie's mother, your history teacher, my nephew Zach, Lexi, Bree, Mason Lockwood, Logan Fell and various others I don't even know the names of. And it wasn't just when I first got here, either. I killed a sweet young thing named Jessica only a few months back, just for the hell of it. And those are only my lesser crimes. Want the big ones now? The ones that really scream out?"

"No," she interjects sharply. Her voice sounds even more strained than before. "You really don't have to list them for me."

"Oh, but I really think I do. Let's see. I snapped your brother's neck right in front of you. That's pretty major. And hell, I actually killed your own mother. After I had sex with her. And then I turned her into a vampire." I pause and check out her reaction.

She looks visibly paler after my diatribe. "I know," she whispers. "I know about all – well, most of that. Didn't know you had sex with Rebekah again. And you killed Bree? When did you have time to-"

"Not really the point, Elena. Look, I know you're an unbelievably forgiving person, but no one could or should forgive me for all of that. And you most definitely do _not fucking love me_. You need to let me go like you said you would the night you died. Let me go. Cause I can't take staying."

At that she gasps sharply. "You…you can't stand to be around me anymore? You faked your own death just to get away from _me_? Because of the way I treated you? Because I'm a vampire now?"

My eyes widen in surprise. "No, not because you're a vampire! That doesn't change a thing about how I feel. Because you love Stefan and you should be with Stefan and I'm in the way. You said so yourself. You'd be better off without me here."

I can tell she's fighting back another deluge of tears. She shakes her head wildly as she stands up to step closer to me. "No, you're wrong. You're incredibly wrong. The only time I'm better off is when I'm with you. I don't want to get back together with Stefan. We don't work anymore." She inhales deeply. "I know I've screwed things up so badly with you and I'm really sorry. I was confused and I said some stupid things, thoughtless things. I took you for granted. And I made the wrong choice - I know that now. I'm so, so sorry, Damon. Can you ever forgive me? Or is it really too late for us?"

My resolve wilts a little. She gets it; after everything I think she _finally_ gets it. There's the real apology, the one I've been waiting so long for. And of course I forgive her. How could I not?

I grab her by both shoulders and hold her gaze. Her eyes are shiny with tears. "Yes, Elena, I forgive you. But there is no 'us'. You and I? We don't work that way. We could never work."

"How can you be so sure?" she whispers, reaching up to cup my cheek. My skin ignites beneath her palm and for a millisecond I close my eyes and imagine how incredible we could be, if only things were different.

But they're not, and I can't let myself get caught up in 'what-ifs'. Not anymore.

I step back abruptly and her hand falls away. "All we do is fight, Elena. Ninety percent of the time you're annoyed with me, the other ten you're flat out furious."

"That's not true," she protests.

I arch an eyebrow at her. "It really is. Something else you probably don't know - Stefan told me before you made your choice, that if you and I got together, he'd leave town. All else aside, I know you don't want to put him through that."

She sighs. "I'm not surprised. I pretty much expected he'd feel that way. But maybe it would be for the best. No matter how much I don't want to hurt him and how much I don't want to lose him from my life, him leaving might actually be better for all of us. It'd give you and me a chance to figure all this out without feeling like we'd always have watch ourselves and be careful of his feelings."

Is she serious? She's actually given this some thought? God, I wish I could take a seat on The Good Ship Denial right along side her. She's probably a crew-member by now.

But I can't. No more blinder-wearing. There is no future for us together. There can't be. I was a fool for ever allowing myself to want it, for ever letting any hope grow.

"Elena, that's all well and good to say. Words are easy. Living them is the hard part. But it doesn't matter. None of these things is the biggest problem."

I walk past her and up the first two steps, before I turn around and look at her again.

"What's the biggest problem, Damon?" she asks, with obvious trepidation.

"The biggest problem is that I don't think I could ever trust you," I confess. And I understand the truth of what I've just said. I hadn't actually voiced those thoughts even to myself before now.

"You…don't trust me?" Her voice is a thread, fragile and hollow.

"I could never be sure you wouldn't run right back to Stefan next time there's a bump in the road. And there would be. With you and me, there always is."

The lump that's formed in my throat at this realization is so large it's physically painful. This is it. This is the end of the line for us.

"Goodbye, Elena," I say, my voice all low and rough. Then I turn and blur up the stairs to my car without looking back.

* * *

The only time I remember ever feeling more emotional agony than this was that horrible hour a few weeks back when I'd thought she was dead; which, yes, I realize is basically what I just put her through. I know, I'm a massive asshole to turn around and purposely do that to her. One more thing to add to the list of all the horrible shit I've done. If I stuck around, it wouldn't be the last thing, either. That fucking list would only grow.

But every step I take has such a feeling of finality to it. I brace myself with both hands against the side of the car for a moment, squeezing my eyes shut and willing my heart to stop pounding and my mind to stop wailing. I'm strangely short of breath.

I listen expectantly for her to come up behind me, but she doesn't follow. My chest is still too tight. My eyes are damp and itchy. Opening the car door, I start to slide inside. Every motion feels like it's being made underwater. The very air itself seems to be fighting against my departure.

Then, without warning, I'm flung out of the car and onto the ground, and Elena is straddling me again.

"You are _such_ a coward!" she yells at me.

A _what_? Did she just call me a fucking coward? I swear my eyes are probably bugging out of my head in astonishment. I push her off of me and stand up, staring incredulously at her. "_What_ did you just call me?" I demand.

"I never thought I'd ever say this, but you, Damon Salvatore, are a coward!" She's back to furious again, which is an emotion of hers I'm all too familiar with. She starts poking a finger into my chest. "You're running for the hills because you're too scared to even try? Because you're afraid we might not work? I've got news for you – no one in the history of time has ever begun a relationship with the certainty that it will all be rainbows and butterflies forever. Real life doesn't work that way, as you well know. You've wanted me for over a year now and here I finally am. You've wanted me to love you back and I do. Your wish came true – I want to be with _you_. You. Not your brother, who you stupidly think deserves me more. And instead of being happy, like you should be, what do you do? You turn and flee cause now that it's real and right in front of you, you can't handle it! Hell, no. A very smart woman told me once that when it's real, you can't walk away. And I won't let you, Damon. I won't let you."

Before I can reply, Elena grabs my head and pulls me down to her and then she's kissing me. I mean, _really_ kissing me. Like grungy-hotel-wall-in-Denver redux kissing me. Like she never wants to let me go. Like she has a point to prove. Which, I guess she thinks she does.

And that voice in my head, the oh-so-logical one that constantly tells me all the reasons why I'm no good for her, why we would never work, why she doesn't love me and can never love me and will only ever love my brother? Yeah, that one. Well, guess what? It's not yelling at me anymore. It's getting quieter. With every movement of her mouth on mine, with every sweep of her tongue against my own, it grows softer.

As I tentatively kiss her back, as I can't help but groan low and needy against her lips, it winks out of existence entirely.

Maybe she does love me, at least a little bit. And if I try not to fuck up too badly, maybe it might grow.

Maybe we do deserve to give this thing a shot. So what that we'll probably crash and burn spectacularly. At least we'd be able to say we tried.

As for my not trusting her? Well, maybe it's time to stop letting all my countless insecurities stand in the way and try to just let myself be happy for once.

Remember when I said how much maybes suck? Well, I think perhaps I was wrong about that. The future holds no guarantees and the hope contained in all these maybes might just be all we've got to cling to.

I may be slouching toward Bethlehem, but I'm damn well not gonna give up until I've given it my best shot. Never let it be said that Damon Salvatore is a quitter.

So I wrap my arms around her and I kiss her with all I've got.

* * *

When Elena eventually pulls back, she looks me straight in the eye, and we stare at each other like we always do. It's so familiar and so natural and so right.

And when she whispers, "I love you", I don't even flinch. I think I want so badly to believe her that maybe, just maybe, I'm actually beginning to for real.

Stroking her cheeks with my thumbs, I reply, "I love you, too."

I've never in my entire long life had a moment as _real _as this one. I'm completely stunned at what's just happened, at the unbelievable mental one-eighty I've somehow just made. And thankfully that other voice in my head stays quiet. I know it'll be back again, probably way too soon, but for right now it's on mute.

She steps back for a moment and pulls a long silver necklace from under her t-shirt and over her head. Quickly undoing the clasp, she removes something from the chain, grabs my left hand, and places a heavy object onto my palm. My daylight ring. It's warm. She'd been keeping it next to her heart. My throat tightens up again as my fingers close over it. With my other hand I slip it back home onto my middle finger.

"Thank you," I murmur, getting lost in those fathomless brown eyes again. She's well aware I don't just mean for the return of my ring.

"You're welcome. How about we get out of here? Katherine was taking Stefan out to cheer him up. We'd have the boardinghouse all to ourselves." She's got one eyebrow cocked and is that a sly grin I see? I swear, Elena Gilbert is actually flirting with me. Me. Wonders will never cease.

I think maybe I could get used to this.

Grabbing her by the hips, I tug her back against my chest and plant another deep kiss on her as I groan in approval. Then I lead her by the hand to the passenger side of my car.

As I open the door for her, she comments, "Smooth move, Mr. Salvatore. I see you can be a gentleman when you want to."

I laugh as I get in the driver's side and start the engine. "Baby, I've got moves you've never seen."

"You'll just have to show me then," she says quietly, flashing me that shy little smile that I remember from when I first met her. The same smile that drew me to her instantly, before I even knew of her kindness, compassion and seemingly unlimited ability to forgive. Before I even caught a glimpse of her hidden fire.

"Elena, if you let me, I'll show you the whole world."

**- FIN -**

* * *

**A/N** So that's it_. Damon and Elena sort of took me down a different path in this chapter than I had originally intended, but sometimes I just have to let the characters lead and this is where they went. And I have to say, I'm perfectly okay with it in this case. Would love to know what you think of this little fic. Please leave a review if you're at all able to. It would be the very best thank you gift you could give me. If you're interested in reading any other of my fics, I also have 2 one-shots that take place after S3 ends called Gone and Forever, as well as several other DE stories.  
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_Huge thank you to every single one of you who have left reviews in the past, will leave one now and who has ever added any of my stories or myself to your favourite lists. Extra massive Thank You to Layla Reyne for beta-ing this fic so well for me and to morvamp for letting me bounces ideas off her for months now and for being so damn patient with me. Please go and read their stories - they are really great!_

_follow me on twitter: elvishgrrl_


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